Bloodlust
by LibertysGrief
Summary: As a commission for a friend, here's some rocking hot vampire Kyman. I mostly wrote this a joke, mostly, but since I'm writing it all, I'll be sure to make it totally decent. Rated M for language and other stuff... READ IF YOU WILL.
1. Prologue

It started eight years ago. At first I had no idea what was happening. I was changing, into someone, something I didn't understand. Food didn't taste like the glorious, delicious food that it used to be, and at first I thought it was my mother's cooking skills that were failing. But when everything started tasting the same, like chalk, I understood that it was my sense of taste that was failing. There were other things as well: increased agility, increased strength, and all of my senses were intensely perceptive. It wasn't until Butters jumped through my window one night that I realized the magnitude of this change.

"Butters! What the fuck?" I shouted as I stumbled backward from him rather abruptly. There was a silence that settled between us while the blonde-haired kid looked me over with an unreadable expression that freaked me out even more than his sudden appearance.

"Shit, I'm really sorry, Eric. I never meant to… oh gee." He turned away from me with a pained expression.

"You're sorry? For what?" I tried to think of something Butters had done to me that was relatively recent. "Wait, are you talking about when you broke into my room a week ago and tried to give me hickey? Whatever dude, you're gay." He flipped around to face me with an expression best described as demonic. I was startled to say the least.

"Don't you get it, you fat retard?" he yelled.

"Ay! Don't me fat, homo! What the fuck is your problem?"

"…Tell me, Eric. Have you been experiencing any significant differences?"

"Pssh, like what?" I scoffed.

"Did you lose your sense of taste?" My eyes widened.

"…H-how would you know about that?" I stuttered slightly in my shock, and he sighed and looked away. "Tell me Butters! What the fuck did you do?"

"Ok, ok! You see, the things is, I'm actually… a vampire… and, I guess, by biting you that night I kinda, sorta, turned you into a vampire too." My jaw dropped.

"Butters, you're so stupid. Vampires. Don't. Exist."

"W-why, yes they do! And I am one! And so are you!"

"Get out of my room," I said darkly.

"You don't believe me? Well fine! I'll just show you how right I am!" He jumped on me and pushed me on to the floor with a force beyond any I could think possible to come from such a small kid. Then he opened his mouth wide and two of his teeth lengthened to a point. I tried to scream in my terror, but he clamped one hand on top of my mouth. I shuddered and shook, while I desperately attempted to not pass out.

"Do you believe me now?" he asked. I nodded my head vigorously, and he took his hand away from my mouth.

"PLEASE DON'T EAT ME! I DON'T WANT TO DIE YET!" I shrieked.

"Shut up!" he hissed. I obeyed. "Listen to me, Tubby-

"-Ay!-"

"My patience is wearing thin. I want you to listen to me carefully. I already made you into a vampire." He pointed to his fangs. "You have these too." I raised my eyebrows and carefully ran my fingers along my teeth.

"No I don't."

"You have to think about blood in order for them to come out." I thought about blood and gore and army dudes being shot up. Then I ran my fingers across my teeth again.

"Nothing happened artard." Butters let out frustrated grunt and climbed off me. I watched him as he walked over to my dresser, grabbed my Swiss-army knife, and plunged the blade into his wrist. At first I was horrified and vaguely nauseous, but when I saw the blood, something in inside me churned. I felt a desire that Mr. Garrison would describe as three thousand erections in the same penis. Butters saw the new life that had sprung behind my eyes, and he beckoned me towards him.

"It's ok, Eric. You can have a taste." Everything about the situation was totally fucked up and gay but I decided to just… go with it. Mostly because that blood looked oh so mighty tasty. Mostly. I ran my tongue across my lips as I was preparing to feast on Butters wrist, when I felt the prick of sharp fangs in the place of my normal teeth. Butters was right; vampires existed and I was one of them.

When I tasted the blood it was beyond everything I had ever experienced. Most definitely better than that sex thing adults were always having. The blood was better than Cheesy Poofs, and anything I had eaten besides that. It was better than Terrance and Phillip. It was better than being right. It was even better that Kyle's Jew tears.

Butters pulled his wrist away from me, and that's when I realized that I had sucked it clean. Then I watched miraculously as the wound closed on its own.

"So, vampires have special healing powers or what?" I asked.

"Not really. Only vampire blood does. But anyone can heal themselves with vampire blood." I nodded slowly. "What else do you want to know?"

"Do I have to drink blood to survive?"

"Yes and no. Vampires have adapted over time to live off of regular food, like hamburgers, but blood sustains us in the long run. I'd say you should drink blood at least twice a week."

"Where do I get blood from?"

"Animals, in the forest. You want to keep our 'condition' on the low down, and no one gives a darn about forest critters."

"How do you know all this stuff, Butters? I mean, seriously."

"Well, I had to get turned into a vampire too, right?" I nodded. Made sense.

"How many others are in South Park?" I asked.

"A few that I know about, but I can't tell who they are. Oh and, you can't tell anyone you're a vampire. Unless they're a vampire. But you only know one vampire so that should cover that."

"Am I immortal now?"

"No. But because of your vampire blood you will live past the average human lifespan."

"How much longer?"

"Twenty years, more or less."

"Ok sounds good. Thank you so much, Butters. I don't know where I would be with out you…"

"Oh shucks, it's nothing, Eric-"

"Wait, yes I do know, I wouldn't be a fucking vampire, asshole! Fuck you!" I punched Butters hard in the gut and he flew backwards into my bedroom wall. My physical strength was insane, but Butters could take it, that little bitch. He coughed and splattered blood on to my carpet, and I was almost tempted to go lick it up, but I wasn't a lesbian anymore.

"W-well, *cough*, I guess I deserved that one didn't I."

"Yeah you did ass-fuck. Now get the fuck out of my house!"

"I'll see you at school tomorrow, Eric!" He smiled, jumped out of my window, and ran for home. I growled and stomped my foot in rage.

"Meeeeeeeemmm!" I shouted. My mom appeared at my doorway in no time at all.

"What is it, Poopie-kins?" she asked sweetly.

"Butters turned me into a vampire!" I whined.

"That's nice, hon. You know you have school tomorrow, you really should be in bed."

"Whatever bitch, I do what I want!"

"Ok, hon." And she left. What a dumb bitch. I knew she wouldn't believe me, but Christ.

I climbed into bed and thought about my exchange with Butters for a long time. I occurred to me that being a vampire would be so bad after all. I would be better than everyone at sports, which would show all those punk-ass kids who's boss. Maybe, eventually, I could rule the world. And then, I could drink all the blood I wanted. When I fell asleep that night I dreamed about _power_.


	2. Eight Years Later

It was almost over. I sat on the edge my chair waiting for what seemed like an eternity. As soon as that big hand was on the two I was going to bolt right out that door. Only ten more seconds.

"And blah blah blah blah, blah blah-biddy blah-biddy blah." _RIIIING. _"Thank you class you may be excused… except you Mr. Cartman." I froze in my seat. Hmm, Mr. Cartman sounded totally badass…

"What do you need?" I whined. My literature teacher was a 50-something Italian woman with three adopted Korean children. No one could hire decent employees anymore.

"Eric, I thought I should suggest you getting a tutor."

"For English? Ok, how could they even help me? That is, unless they read my books and write my papers for me. I believe there are some people who just fail at English, and you can't help those people."

"You know, it might be nice to have someone you bounce can ideas off of. Share with them what you've been reading and discuss underlining themes. You might also want to get someone excelling in other classes you have. I've been looking over your other grades-"

"You can do that?"

"It seems to me that you could be using help in the majority of your classes." I glanced over at the clock. Three minutes into my weekend and this woman is still jabbering.

"Ok, Ms. Giacopazzi. I'll definitely look into it. Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Yes, Eric, that's all." Then, I was out of there faster than a… really fast. It didn't take me long to find Stan, Kyle and Kenny. They always met up under the flagpole after school.

"Heeeey Guuuuys," I greeted them in the usual fashion.

"Hey Cartman!" Kenny exclaimed when he saw me approaching. God, I loved Kenny. He was always so enthusiastic about my company, and he was the only one person who was ever actually nice to me. I mean, I would have never told him I loved him, but the feeling was still there.

"Dude, we were going to go play basketball in the park, you want to come with?" asked Stan.

"Haha haha, NO. Fuck you guys. I'm going to go home and watch T.V." Stan was taken aback by my heartless and inconsiderate response, but, really, you think he'd be used to it by now. After all the times I've gone out of my way to shoot him down, jeez, he's still just a silver-lining kiss ass.

"Goddamn, Cartman, I really don't understand how you keep off all that weight when you _never leave your house_," said that faggy Jew kid.

"Yeah, Kahl, but I don't eat and that's why I'm so fine. And I know you've noticed." I raised my eyebrows suggestively and Kyle looked away in disgust.

"Why don't you eat again?" asked Stan.

"I already told you guys. I lost my sense of taste in elementary school, so I only eat when I'm hungry and not for pleasure."

"Cartman, dude, just come chill with us. It'll be fun!" said Kenny. God, I loved Kenny. If Stan and Kyle were super best friends ever, then Kenny and I were best friends forever-awesome. So there.

"Keenny, I will totally call you later, but right now I've got a weekend to start. Screw you guys, I'm going home."

"That's so fucking lame, Cartman. You call us your 'friends' but then you never hang out with us outside of school, unless you're going to make money or get to sit in front of someone else's T.V.," Stan complained.

"What the fuck is this? 'Keep-Cartman-from-enjoying-his-weekend-day?' I obviously, didn't get the memo!" I yelled.

"Obviously," said Kyle. "Stan, just let him go be ugly by himself. We don't want him fucking up our game."

"Really, Kahl? You can't call me fat, so you call me ugly? It's painful to me how much you suck. And don't think I didn't totally evaluate the double meaning in you sucking. As in, you failing at life and being gay."

"Shut up, Cartman, and go home! No one likes you!" Kyle's face was steadily becoming a bright shade of red. It was so awesome that I could piss him off so much that he turned a different color.

"Keenny and Stan like me, and they don't want me to leave. You only want me to go home so I won't beat your kike ass at basketball 'cause YOU SUCK."

"Say that again on the courts, mother fucker! And that also has a double meaning!" My face fell. My mother was slut, but that was just disgusting.

"It's fucking on. Come on, Keenny! I want to teach this Jew a lesson." I dragged him in the direction of the park, Kyle and Stan close behind.

Stan brought the ball because he's a stupid jock. It was Kenny and I against Kyle and Stan, which it almost always was anyway. Stan and Kyle both played basketball for the school, and Kenny and I both did whatever the hell we wanted all the time cause school sports are gay. But just because we didn't play with the school, didn't mean we couldn't whoop the shit out of people who did. And Kyle and Stan (mostly Kyle) were just asking for a whooping.

First play. It was a half-court game so Kyle started by bouncing the ball off of Kenny. Then he passed it to Stan who shot it through the hoop without hesitation. Damn. These guys didn't fuck around. At least not on the courts. Heh, that was pretty funny. I was gonna have to remember that one later.

Second play. Kenny bounced the ball off of Stan, and threw it to me. Then I immediately slam-dunked it, despite Kyle's futile attempts to knock it away from me. Take that, fuckers.

Third play. Stan bounced the ball off of me, and tried to throw it to Kyle, but I blocked it in the air, bounced it on the line, and threw the ball from where I was standing. Score! Kenny ran over and high-fived me while Kyle face turned an angry shade of pink. It was a generous reward.

Fourth play. Stan bounced the ball off of Kenny, and tossed it to Kyle. The stupid Jew shot it from the 3-point line, which was easily intercepted by me. I then hurled it towards Kenny, ready at the point guard. He caught it, bounced it, and shot straight through the hoop. The other team was starting to feel the bitter beat down, and I had to physically strain myself to not rub it in their faces. Not yet. I was going to let it accumulate a little more first.

"Damn, dude. How the hell are you guys so good at this? You're not even on the team!" Stan exclaimed.

_'Well Stan, I have vampire powers that make me super awesome at everything.' _Nah, he would probably have thought I was retarded if I told him that. And if he had believed me, then I would've had to kill him. So, instead I said, "Whatever dawg. Basketball sucks ass. Me and Kenny are just bitchin' at everything, and unlike you losers, we don't need to be on a fucking team to feel good about ourselves."

"Fuck you, Cartman," said Stan. He was pissed now I could tell. That would only make victory so much sweeter.

Fifth play. Kyle bounced the ball off Kenny, and threw it to Stan who dribbled it to the hoop only to be met head on by my insane agility. I stole the ball away from him and dribbled past Kyle down the court to the halfway line. I could make the shot from here, but even that was stretch. That might make them suspicious.

'_Don't think,'_ I told myself, because I could see Kyle was closing in fast and I had precious little time. I jerked around and past him and dribbled for the hoop. Kenny was busy keeping Stan off my path, which helped when I finally tossed the ball easily of the backboard and into the net. Them n00bs got PWND.

Sixth play. It was Kyle's turn to bounce off of me. He looked like he could strangle a bunny-rabbit with no regrets. His fury was so delicious I couldn't help but bask in it. Just a little.

"What's the matter Kyle? If your ass sore from me kicking the shit out it, or is that left over from you last encounter with Stan's dick?"

It was beautiful. I could see the thin string holding whatever restraint he had left in him snap. He physically changed with it, and I wouldn't have been surprised if I heard a cracking noise as well. He chucked the ball towards me with a force that was probably meant to take my head off. I tossed it back casually. I wasn't anticipating what happened after that. He threw the ball high over my head to Stan on the other side of my and then ran up and rammed his fist into my gut.

It didn't hurt that much, but it still made me want to throw up. I didn't though. That's gross. I just fell on to my knees and held my midsection until my breath came out in even bursts again. The first intelligible thought in my head was simply, _'Kyle… is so… DEAD.'_

"What the fuck was that, Kyle?" I heard Kenny yell from behind me. "That was totally a foul!"

"This isn't a game of basketball anymore!" shouted Kyle. "This is fucking war!"

I slowly staggered to my feet. I could already feel any damaged tissue being repaired by my magical vampire blood. They had no idea what I was capable of. My face must've look pretty frightening because Kyle immediately shrunk away. That's right bitch! No fucking idea what you're in for.

"Let me tell you something, Kahl. If you EVER met me on the battlefield I wouldn't just kill you. I'd make you beg for death… for _sweet_ release. I'd make you beg me to stop torturing you and just kill you already, dammit! DON'T FUCK WITH ME." Kyle was steadily backing up to where Stan and Kenny were standing, but they were too busy shitting themselves to give him any moral support. I lunged towards Kyle and ripped him off his feet by the collar of his jacket, before I slammed him into the pole of the basketball hoop. He looked so pale he could've passed out.

I leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "I hate you so much I wouldn't care if you got murdered right in front of me. I might laugh while you screamed. I might even _help_." In my head, I quickly evaluated how far I could throw him without it seeming too far to be possible. Then, I threw him. He skidded to a halt a few feet behind me, and Stan, of course, immediately rushed to his side. Gay.

I didn't have to turn around to see how badly I'd injured him. I could already smell it. And it smelled SO. GOOD. I wanted to vomit. I wanted to cum. Oh my god! My legs almost gave out from underneath me. The animals I'd been sucking dry every week tasted good. Butters tasted good. This sensation was _phenomenal_. And it was scary. It was actually terrifying how much power Kyle's blood inflicted over my senses. I was losing my self-control.

My first instinct was to spin around and suck out all of Kyle's blood until there was nothing left. My second instinct was to run. Run like hell until I was so far away from the open wound that it could no longer impose upon me such overwhelming desire. So I ran. Until my legs were sore and my mouth was dry from panting. I just ran.

When I finally came to a stop I realized I was in front of Butters's house. Exactly the person I wanted to see. Way to go, subconscious! I took a minute to compose myself before I strolled up to the front door and knocked sharply. Butter's dad answered the door.

"Why hello there sport!" he said cheerily. I almost turned around and went home right then just because he called me "sport", but instead I forced myself to stay for the sake of my sanity. For the sake of my self-control!

"Hello Mr. Stotch! Is Butters home?"

"Yes he is, but he's grounded for staying up past his bed time last week." I could've cried. Who knew social interaction could actually be physically painful?

"You don't understand. I really need to see him. It's kind of an emergency…"

"_Kind of_ an emergency?"

"Ok, it _is_ an emergency."

"Well, ok. If it's an emergency. He's upstairs in his room."

"Thank you so much!" I shouted as I bolted past him and up the stairs. I opened the door to Butters room to find him lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. He sat up when he saw me come in.

"Eric, w-what are you doing here?"

"Butters… what the hell are you doing?"

"I'm being grounded, see, for staying up past my bed time."

"Butters, you're almost eighteen for Christ's sake!" What an idiot. Why did he of all people be the only one I could come to for help?

"What do you need, Eric?"

"Well, I need to talk to you about something that's, um… bloody."

"Oh shucks, you didn't kill any humans did you?"

"No! Fuck no! But I was this close. So close." I groaned when I remembered the waves of euphoria I had been fighting just minutes ago.

"Who did you _almost _kill?"

I hesitated before answering, "Kyle. B-but how could Kyle's blood do that to me! I mean I've been around tons of people bleeding. Like at school, or in the gym. Hell, Kenny dies every other week, and it's usually something nasty and gory. Someone really doesn't like that kid... But I can handle that! Why is Kyle different? Is it because he's a Jew?"

Butters was silent for a moment. Then he said, "I've experienced something similar to you. But it wasn't because that person was a Jew. It was because they had the same blood type as me." I froze. Kyle and I were the only two people in South Park with the same blood type. What a motherfucking coincidence.

"So vampires are attracted to people with the same blood type. Not men or women. It just based on blood type."

"Well, yeah, I guess. But I'm not a faggot."

"Neither am I, Butters. But this is beyond sexual preference. When I smelled his blood it was just blind hunger."

"Well, you could always make Kyle your human slave or something?"

"… WHAT. We can do that?"

"Yeah sure. But Kyle can't tell anyone that you're a vampire. And you can't tell him the identities of any other vampires. But you only know one other vampire, so, I guess, just don't tell him that I'm a vampire." It was perfect I could own Kyle and his damned Jew blood. But how…?

"Sounds interesting... Butters, is there a way I can suck Kyle's blood without turning him into a vampire?"

"Actually, I don't know. I'll have to ask my…um, contact." He winked at me and I tried not to smack him.

"Please do! That would be so awesome of you Buttes!" And meanwhile I could do what I could to start putting my plan into effect. This was about more than money or power. This was about dominating and controlling the substance that had come to dominate and control me. Kyle would be my blood bitch. I was determined to make that fact alone a reality.


	3. Kyle's Thoughts

I walked into the school hesitantly, but despite my stealth, everyone immediately turned to look at me. And what I sight I must've been, with my right arm in a loose sling, a limp in my right leg, and a big fat bandage on my chin. I felt my face flush in embarrassment from the attention, and I cursed my redheaded genes that made my blush blatantly apparent to everyone around me. It wasn't my fault I was so pale. Blame genetics!

I moved as quickly to my locker as I could in my state, careful to avoid any additional stares that were pointed in my direction. I was just putting in my combination when I heard from behind me the sound of a familiar nasally voice, and I spun around to find myself face to face with Craig.

"Whoa Broflovski! Who hates you?"

"Who else?" I responded dryly.

"Don't tell me fatass did that to you!" Even though Cartman wasn't fat anymore, the name still had a universal recognition within our school.

"Ok, I won't," I said. "See you later, Craig." I tried to walk past him, but he stood in front of me so that he was blocking my path.

"Don't be such a dick, Kyle," said Craig, as he gave me the finger. "It was just a question."

"Of course. Yeah, this is Cartman's work." I practically spit out his name. It still left a bad taste on my tongue. "Now are you happy?"

"If I could do that to anyone I would be!"

"Fuck you, Craig! Get out of my way!"

"Whatever man," he said, giving me the finger one last time, before striding off to go find his friends. Craig was such an asshole.

My first class was just down the hall, and I knew if I could just get there I would be safe from the inquiring eyes of my fellow students. I had Health with Stan and Wendy, two people who would surely help take my mind off of my current physical condition. But my blood ran cold in the brief realization that Cartman was also in my Health class. Damn required courses! They were the only classed that allowed kids from every range of GPAs to exist together in the same learning environment, so evidently I would be stuck with Cartman. Fate could be so cruel.

I considered skipping, for a moment, before I brushed it off completely. Not at the expense of my perfect attendance. My other option was to suffer the humiliation of his company. I was like a living trophy, walking proof of Cartman's ridiculous strength that I, unfortunately, had been unaware he had. And I was actually scared when he wrenched me off my feet. I didn't weigh that much, but even Kenny couldn't lift me up for more that a few seconds. Cartman had lifted me above him and held me there. I shuddered at my previous helplessness, and somewhere in my mind, I was reminded that it was essentially my fault in the first place.

'_He was the one who provoked me to hit him! He has no sense of human decency. He totally deserved that!'_ I argued back.

_ 'But you were the one who turned it into more than just a game of basketball. It's still you're fault that your wearing a gazillion bandages.'_

'_That's not a number dumbass.'_

'_Don't call yourself a dumbass!' _Sometimes I was very grateful no one ever witnessed my inner dialogues. They could be pretty retarded.

I made my decision to just go to class, and not think about anything too hard. When I got to the classroom, I poked my head through the doorway to make sure I wouldn't have to deal with unpleasant company. I was immensely relieved to see that Cartman was not in his seat. I was not relieved to find out he was standing behind me.

"Kahl, we need to talk." My whole body tensed in the displeasure of his presence, and I tried to get away from him as fast as my limp allowed. But it wasn't any use. He was faster than me even without my limp. He strolled in front of me and blocked the doorway with his arm.

"Get away from me," I said in my darkest, most threatening voice. His eyebrow twitched in attempt to hold his face. The first indication he was hiding something.

"I'm sorry," he said remorsefully. I wasn't anticipating that card, but I wasn't fazed. I was used to Cartman. I knew he wouldn't be apologizing unless he was about to ask for a favor.

"Bull. Shit. You think I can't tell you're lying. After all the years I've known you, you've never changed. You're still the worst liar I've ever met. Now let me go sit down before class starts."

"I really am sorry. I took it too far. I mean, _you_ punched me, but that was my fault for being a huge jerk. Then again you're always a jerk… Anyway, I'm sorry for being a jerk. …But I still think you're mean."

"What? I'm not mean!" My inner voice was desperately telling me not to lose my cool, but something about that last comment struck me.

"Yeah you are. You're the meanest person I've ever met. Everyone's mean to me sometimes, but you're the absolute worst. You've never been nice to me once."

"That's cause you've never been nice to me ever! Since day one you tormented me relentlessly. You've done everything in your power to make my life into a nightmare." Cartman's eyes narrowed, and I realized I might have actually pissed him off. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

"Maybe if you were nice to me I would be nice to you too."

"Only you wouldn't because you're an asshole."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about, Kahl! You're such a dick! Give me a fucking chance!"

"I've given you plenty of opportunities to be nice to me. You could've been my friend if you wanted to, but you just fuck with me instead. You're never genuine or honest. We can never be friends because I don't trust you!"

"I'm being genuine right now. I want to be your friend." My eyes widened in surprise, Cartman continued to stare me down me waiting for a response. But before I could answer a voice sounded behind us.

"Ahem." I turned around to see my Health teacher, Mr. Jones, standing impatiently in the hallway. "If you boys don't mind, I'd like to enter my classroom and start class." Cartman's arm dropped from the doorway, and he moved immediately to his seat. I also went to sit down next to Stan and Wendy, but it took me a little longer. When I was finally settled, and Mr. Jones had begun his lecture on safe sex, Stan turned to me and asked what Cartman had wanted at the beginning of class.

"He wants to be my friend," I said. Just saying it out loud sounded strange and unnatural. It was obvious that Stan thought so too.

"Dude, it's probably just some ploy to get you to do something for him."

"I know. I just don't know why I'm so surprised. Or why I even consider believing him!"

"Just brush him off. You don't need to take his shit, Kyle."

"You're right." Stan was always right. I glanced over at the front of the room. "Hey Stan, shouldn't be taking notes?" Stan also looked over and blushed heavily when he saw Mr. Jones was demonstrating how to properly apply a condom.

"Shut up, Kyle! You know Wendy and I already decided to wait until after we turn eighteen!"

"Yeah I do know. I'm just teasing you for being totally whipped."

"Whatever dude. If being whipped and in love are the same thing I have no fucking problem with it."

"Only… there is a _fucking_ problem with it." I smirked and Stan growled.

"You're such a jerk sometimes." I gasped. That's exactly what Cartman had told me. And if Stan thought it as well, then it must've been true. Was I actually a mean person? I hadn't thought I was. What did I ever do that was mean? I used to kick my brother through windows, but that was mostly harmless. I was always mean to Cartman, but that was his own fault for being just an insensitive bastard. I've always teased Stan relentlessly for his attraction to Wendy, but that's cause we're friends and friends make fun of each other. Was I really a mean person?

"Dude, are you ok?" Stan was looking at me with concern in his eyes.

Despite being completely crestfallen, I somehow mustered a smile and said, "Yeah, dude. It's cool." Stan nodded approvingly, and turned his attention back to the lecture, while I wallowed in my own gloom. I was a jerk. Maybe I did owe Cartman an apology.

'_You don't owe that ass-wipe anything.'_

'_I'm a mean person and its my fault Cartman and I have never been friends. I should just give him a chance.'_

'_So he can swindle you into doing shit for him?'_

'_I don't know…'_

"Kyle Broflovski! What did I just say?" My head snapped up to find the entire class's eyes on me. Fuck.

"I'm really sorry, Mr. Jones. I wasn't paying attention. But could I leave to go to the nurse's office. I think one of my injuries is opening up." I saw Cartman tense in his seat out of the corner over my eye, and I assumed it must've been out of guilt. Could it be possible Cartman really had a conscience, and that I was the one being rude in this situation?

"Yes Kyle, that's fine. Hurry back though. I consider this one of the most important lessons you will ever learn in your lifetime. You see class, almost everyone has sex at some point in their life, and it's important to be prepared with the knowledge of consequences that come with irresponsible sexual activity…" He was still talking as I quietly slipped out of the room and down the main hallway to the front office. Even though my excuse was made up, it wouldn't hurt to have someone check out how my cuts and scrapes were fairing.

The nurse kindly re-disinfected my cuts and gave me new bandages. I was soon on my way back to class, hoping I wasn't going to run into some random teacher stalking the hallways, looking for power high by stopping and interrogating students in the hallway. Instead of teacher, I ran into Cartman, who was propped up on the wall outside our Health class. Why didn't I see this coming?

"What? Did you get kicked out of class?" I asked mockingly.

"Don't just assume things like that, Kahl you douchebag." I flinched. I _was_ a jerk. "…and yes. I got kicked out."

"Hey, don't call me a douchebag if it's the truth!" I yelled at him. Then Cartman laughed, and I wanted to break his arm. We might hang out for the sake of consistency, but there was no way in hell we would ever be friends. I didn't even care that I was a jerk, as long as I wasn't the manipulative, sadistic scum of the Earth.

"Haha, Don't worry about it! I'm only screwing with you, Kahl!"

"I know. Why did you get kicked out?"

"I made a comment about how good Mr. Jones was at putting condoms on other people."

"Sick dude!" I almost gagged at the mental imagery. This conversation had gone on longer than I cared to participate in, and I made an abrupt move to go back into class.

"Kahl wait! Look, I know we can't be friends, because I really don't deserve your trust. But I need you to do something for me!"

"…What is it?" I asked even though I might've regretted it. Probably.

"Well, my teachers are telling me I need to get a tutor…"

"You want me to help you study?" It sounded like the most incredulous thing on the planet. "Since when do you give a fuck about grades?"

"Since I might not graduate next year!" Cartman looked kind of desperate. Damn, I could already fell the goodness inside me swelling.

'_No,'_ I tried to tell myself. _'He doesn't deserve my time of day, let alone my help with anything.'_

'_You have to help the less fortunate! Cartman isn't getting good grades. You are. Help the guy out!'_

'_No way. Fuck off.'_

'_At least do it so he won't think you're so mean.' _I considered this. This could be a good opportunity to show Cartman what a kind and wholesome person I was. And how could Cartman use me for anything but studying? As long as I stayed on my toes he couldn't trick me into doing stuff for him. All I had to do is not let my guard down once. Then, what harm was there in tutoring Cartman?

Cartman fidgeted in my silence, until finally he said, "I could pay you if you wanted me to." I was shocked. Cartman would actually give up money for my tutoring. His grades must've been worse than I thought.

"I don't want your money Cartman!"

"What do want? My stuff?"

"No! Jesus! Ok, chill out. I'll do it. For free." Cartman beamed.

"Thank you! Thank you, Kyle!"

I walked back into the classroom without another word. I really hoped I wasn't going to regret this.


	4. Cartman's Dilemma

It had been over a week since Kyle agreed to tutor me, and his wounds had all but healed, except a few scabs and a bright red patch of raw skin on this chin. When I first saw it I had laughed and called him "Chinny", but it stopped being funny fast, since I had to call him fifty times to apologize and convince him to give me a second chance. God, he was such a little bitch, but I was more determined to make him mine than ever.

The first step was to get Kyle close to me and away from the other guys. The next step was to think of a plan, but I was still working on that one. And so far all that was taking place during our damned study sessions was studying. WEAK. The tension between us was so high, with Kyle always on his fucking tippy-toes so as to not get swindled into anything, and me who wanted to suck Kyle's blood so bad it hurt.

Then one afternoon, when I was playing CoD in my room I got a call from Butters, telling me had the "answers I was looking for". Butters was such a little faggot. I went over to his house an hour later to punch him in the face for being gay. He was in his room, not being grounded for once, but instead folding his laundry.

"Oh my god, Butters. You're folding laundry?"

"Well, this laundry isn't gonna fold itself…" he said. I groaned.

"Folding laundry is something you do when you're grounded! Don't you ever have fun?"

"Sure I do. Sometimes I sing and play with action figures."

"One day I'm going to kill you, Butters."

"W-what?"

"Now what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Oh yeah." Butters face darkened. It was like he had a bad case of split personality. Or he was retarded. There was that too. "So, I talked to my contact and he told me that there is kind of 'venom' that exists in vampire fangs, and when you've sucked enough blood to fill your appetite, which is referred to as 'the limit', you release this venom into your victim and they turn into a vampire. It kind of like ejaculation during sex."

"Let me get this straight. You orgasmed into my neck?"

"I guess…"

"GODAMMIT! So lame!" I shuddered at the thought. "Is there anyway I can suck a person's blood without turning them into a vampire?"

"Sure! You just don't suck to 'the limit'. But that's like pulling out before you're finished. It's worse than blue-balls." It took me a moment to process what had just come out of Butters's mouth.

"How the fuck would you know that?" Butters blushed.

"I-I don't. I've only heard…"

"Ok. So the only way I can suck Kyle's blood to my hearts desire is if I turn him into vampire. Peachy."

"There's another way…" I looked at him curiously.

"What is it?"

"If you… cum before you reach 'the limit'." My mouth dropped.

"Like, sex?" Butters nodded. "I actually think I'd prefer to turn him into a vampire. Thanks anyway, Butters."

I turned to go, but Butters stopped me when he said, "If you turn him into a vampire, his blood will taste just like mine." My heart dropped into my shoes.

"What? Why?" I shouted, grabbing his upper arm and jerking him towards me.

"I don't know! I only know that when a person turns into a vampire their blood loses any unique taste!"

"Let me make something clear to you, Butters." I ground out. "I always get what I want, and I don't want to have to fuck Kyle to get what I want!"

"What do you want?"" Butters whimpered.

"I want Kyle's blood, and as much of it as I desire."

"Then you have to fuck, Kyle."

"ARRRGHHHH DAMMIT!" I shrieked in frustration. I threw Butters across the room and started pacing back and forth. This was too much. I didn't want to have so much attachment. I didn't want Kyle… I only wanted his blood. This was a dilemma I had not foreseen nor taken into account. Being a vampire fucking sucked!

"Might I suggest something?" asked Butters from the other side of the room.

"What is it?" I barked.

"You need to decide whether you want to obtain Kyle out of fear or love?"

"I don't want to obtain Kyle. That's gay. I just want him for his blood."

"You need to decide which it is or you're never going to get off square one."

I sighed. "Ok, ok. Let's say I choose fear."

"Rape him." I flinched. "What's the problem? He can't fight your super human strength. And he won't tell anyone if he knows you can kill him and all of his loved ones."

"That's disgusting and wrong! I do NOT want to rape Kyle or anyone. That is so incredibly fucked up."

"Then you have to get him to have consensual intercourse with you, which is the 'love' option."

"Ok, let's say I just don't want to have sex with, Kyle."

"Then stop bitching about drinking his blood, you baby!" I jumped. Butters had suddenly become very hostile. He got up to his feet and stormed over to where I was standing. "I suggest you stop being such a pussy and either give it to Kyle like real man, or just give up!" I gasped, and tried to think up some sort of comeback, but Butters had totally stuck it to me. "Understand?"

"Y-yeah. Sure."

"Then go home." With that, Butters stomped over to his pile of clean clothes and started folding again. I stood there for a little while feeling pretty shook up, before I finally gathered my wits and walked out his house. Butters would never cease to surprise me.

I sat in my room that same night carefully considering all that Butters had told me. He was right… it was the only way. I wasn't gay, I totally wasn't. But I was pretty desperate.

For Kyle to have sex with me by his own free will, he would have to want me. Even as hot as I was, it wasn't going to be an easy task. I'd have to make Kyle gay and then make him fall in love with his worst enemy. Then, we'd need to get to the point in our relationship where I'd confess to him about being a vampire, we'd start having steady sex, and I would be drinking his blood regularly. If I somehow managed to fulfill this goal, I would be the ULTIMATE manipulator. And if I failed, I could always rape him. It was one hell of a fall back plan, and it was mostly foolproof. Mostly. But we'd burn that bridge when we got there.

I rolled over in my bed so I was lying on my side facing my dresser. Clyde Frog sat upright watching the door for ghosts and bad guys. He used to watch out for vampires too, but that was before I was one.

"What do you think about my plan, Clyde Frog?"

"_Well Cartman, rape is frowned on in most societies and I personally think it wrong."_

"Yeah I agree. That's why it's my back-up plan. I wouldn't do it unless I absolutely had to."

"_As long as it's only because you really need to. Oh, and I wanted to tell you that I'd still like you if you were gay. We could still hang out and stuff."_

"Thanks, Clyde Frog. You're the best friend I've ever had." I leaned over and turned off my lamp. There was going to be a long and difficult journey ahead, but I was ready for whatever. I was determined to have my way, even if it meant having my way with Kyle.

I met with Kyle the next Monday after school, and we compared Biology notes, which was a fancy way of saying I copied down his. Even though we didn't have Biology together we were still taking the same class, and Kyle's notes were actually saving my ass. I used to have a low D in the class, but in the week and half that Kyle had been helping me, and I had come to class fully prepared, my grade had jumped to an even C. It was amazing.

Now Kyle was re-explaining everything the teacher had explained in class (while I was asleep) and even using smaller words so I could comprehend the material. While the whole point of our tutoring session was so I could be closer to Kyle, the fact of the matter was he was actually bringing up my GPA, and that was a major bonus. It was like succeeding in school without trying. And it was all thanks to my personal Jew.

Kyle didn't wear his hat that day, and I was trying to figure out how his hair could defy physics, even though it was biology I was supposed to be focused on.

"Cartman, are you even listening to me?" I snapped back to reality at the sound of my voice.

"Yeah I'm listening!"

"What did I just say?"

"… I wasn't listening."

"Jesus Christ! You're so ungrateful! You know I could be at home playing videogames instead of explaining things to you that I already understand."

"Don't be such a whiny bitch, Kyle. I'm not ungrateful, my thoughts just went off onto a tangent."

"Fuck you, asshole! I've had it up to here with your shitty attitude!"

"Ok, I'm sorry!" Lately, I'd been much more quick to apologize. I didn't want Kyle to walk out on me suddenly because I was an asshole. That was definitely not on the list of ways to convince someone to allow you to suck their blood. I wished that I had that list. "What is it you were talking about?"

"I was trying to explain to you how blood type is passed down through genetics." What a coincidence. Blood is my favorite subject. "This diagram here," he pointed to the textbook, "shows the different combinations of A, B, and O traits that lead to determining a child's blood type. O is entirely recessive so if it's paired with anything but another O it will yield to the more dominant gene. A and B are equally dominant so when paired with each other they create an AB blood type."

"Where does it say that I was the only person who could ever qualify as a kidney donor for you?" I said bitterly.

"Fuck off, Cartman! That was a long time ago! God, do you even give a shit about learning?" Oh yeah, I was supposed to be nice. This was turning out to be harder than I thought it would be.

"Of course I do," I lied. "Please go on." Kyle sighed and turned the page.

"Anyway we'll move on to- ah-AAH!" I jumped back from surprise, and because no one likes to have someone yell in their ear.

"What happened?" I asked, my ears still ringing.

"Sorry, its nothing. Just a paper cut. Damn, that's pretty deep…" My heart froze, and I instantly looked away. Oh god. I couldn't smell it yet but I knew what was coming. And just like before, the same coppery ecstasy washed through my nostrils. At the same time I felt my fangs form and pinch down on my lower lip. I could've sworn that I had just died and now beheld the gates of heaven.

"Hey Cartman do you have a Band-Aid? I don't want to bleed on your textbook." Jesus, was there really that much? Surely not from a paper cut! I couldn't help but sneak a glance.

MISTAKE! There wasn't as much blood as Kyle had let on, but there was definitely some blood oozing out of the side of his pointer finger. And as soon as I saw it, I almost lost my mind. Actually, I did lose my mind, because right then I reached out and grabbed Kyle's hand, pulling it to my mouth. I was very careful not to let my fangs graze his skin as I gently sucked and licked at the opening.

The difference between the smell and taste was like a crack in the sidewalk compared to the Grand Canyon. I was gone. And there was no turning back. If fucking Kyle gave me open access to these sensations burning holes in my back, what the fucking hell was stopping me? Oh god. I had to restrain myself from moaning out loud into his hand. Shit! I couldn't help it. At least I thought that was me who moaned. Wasn't it? Unless…

I glanced up and saw Kyle with his eyes closed softly, mouth slightly open, and face completely flushed. I tore my tongue away from the tender prodding in astonishment. What the fuck?

At my sudden absence, Kyle eyes flew open and looked directly at me. That's when I realized that my mouth was still pressed against his finger. I didn't believe it was possible but his face actually got redder to the point where the spot on his chin just blended in, and I was slightly amused to see the tips of his ears turn pink as well. His eyes widened considerably, and then he ripped his hand away from me.

"I should go!" he shouted. In one swift movement and shoved all of his things into his bag and bolted out the door. I sat frozen in my seat, relishing in the aftertaste that he left in my mouth. I smirked. Maybe this whole "getting into Kyle's pants" thing was going to be a lot easier that I'd anticipated.


	5. Kyle's Breakthrough

I wasn't sure exactly where the hell I was running to, I only knew I had to get as far away as possible from where I had just been. Even though I was the best hurdle jumper on the SPHS track team, I still felt like I was dragging major ass. Probably because my legs still felt like goo. And that wasn't because of what just happened. I just must've been sitting weird or something.

It took my a moment to realize I was running in the direction of my house, and it struck me that it was probably the last place I wanted to be right now. I didn't want to be bothered my dad's overwhelming compassion, my little brother's keen observations, and my mother's... What didn't piss me off about my mom? There were times where she really was the most understanding and wonderful person in the world, but those times never came when I needed them the most. Most of the time, she was a huge- No! I would never say that about my mom. Not after all the times that Cartman had called her that! He _always_ said mean things! And he said I was the mean one…

Oh god. Cartman. How could I have forgotten, even while my finger was still throbbing? What the hell happened back there? Why had I reacted the way I did? There was no way I could go home like this, all tired and confused. It dawned on me that this might be the perfect opportunity to visit Stan. He would know exactly what say. I made a sharp right and ran for while longer before arriving at the familiar green house that belonged to my best friend. I knocked on the door to be greeted by Mr. Marsh, whose moustache had recently acquired some straggly gray hairs.

"Oh hey, Kyle. Are you here to see Stan?"

"Yeah I really need to talk to him. Is he here?"

"Yeah he's upstairs with Wendy. They're doing homework together. Feel free to come on in and make yourself at home." I thanked him quickly before I rushed up the stairs. Stan had an old "Terrance and Phillip" poster on his door, which I'm sure Wendy appreciated. I didn't think to knock until I opened the door and saw Stan and Wendy not doing homework at all. I quickly shut the door and rushed back down the stairs trying to push the images out of my head. Stan was behind me in a moment. I wasn't surprised he hadn't stopped to put on a shirt.

"Dude! What the hell was that?"

"I'm sorry! Your dad said you were doing homework!"

"Dammit, Kyle! I was so close," he hissed, and I realized I may have accidently cock-blocked my friend.

"Oh my god. I'm sooo sorry. Is there any way I can-"

"Hey Kyle!" Wendy greeted me from the top of the stairs. She did take the time to put on a shirt. I blushed and tried not to think about the color of her bra. Stan punched me hard in the arm. He was trying not to think about it too. "Um well, I'll see you guys later. Oh, and Kyle, you should definitely come to the dance the Women's Equality Club is hosting on Friday night. It's a fundraiser so buying a ticket will go to a good cause. Stan can tell you all about it."

"Yeah, I will." Stan gave her a big puppy dog grin, and she rewarded him with a soft kiss. Then, she was out the door.

"Yeah, there's a dance…" Stan mumbled, while rubbing the back of his neck. His mind was obviously still somewhere else. "It's at Token's house. He's all for equal rights. You can get a ride with me if you want."

"No, I don't think I'll go. I'll still buy a ticket and all, but dances are really not my thing."

"No way. Dude, you have to go. I might die without you there. Literally."

"Don't be melodramatic. You're just gonna grind with Wendy the whole time anyway. There's no way I'm being your third wheel."

"At least come because…" He leaned in close to my ear and whispered, "I'm really hoping that I can go all the way with Wendy that night. Her parents will be out of town until Saturday night, and we were getting really far today before you walked in. I might have chance."

"And what? You want me to watch?"

"No! Just be there for moral support. Come on, Kyle. I need my best friend with me on the night I, you know."

"I'll bring my camera."

"Stop it! You know what I mean." I looked over at Stan who had a forlorn look in his eyes. Damn. I was too soft.

"Ok. But I'm not going to have fun. Not on your life."

"Whatever, I don't care if you have fun." I gasped in mock offense. "Heh, it's fine. I'll make sure you have a good time."

"Bullshit," I said.

"So, what was it that couldn't wait? It must be pretty important for you to come over to my house without any warning." I felt my face heat up to an embarrassing degree, for the millionth time that day. I had no idea how I was going to explain this to Stan.

"Can we talk in your room? It's just… I'd be more comfortable if we talked in your room."

"Yeah sure. Whatever you want." I followed Stan upstairs, meanwhile trying to collect my thoughts and organize them so when I eventually began talking I wouldn't sound stoned out of my mind. Stan sat down in the chair in front of his desk. I sat down on his bed.

"What's up dude?" he said. Stan was such a good friend. Even now I knew he was exactly the person I needed to talk to. He was the only one that would be there for me no matter what.

"Ok so, I'm just going to say this. I think I'm attracted to Cartman." Stan almost fell of his chair.

"WHAT?"

"Dude! Calm down! Just listen to me!"

"I am! Dear god…"

"Look, you don't understand. You see we were studying, and then I cut myself and he… he…" My face felt so hot I'm sure it could've boiled a pot of water.

"He what?"

"He… kind of, made out with the cut." Stan mouth opened in repulsion. "I know it sounds weird, but-"

"Weird is a huge understatement."

"I know! I know…" I sighed. This whole situation was weird.

"And what? You liked it?" I blushed again.

"Yeah. I did. I thought it was really hot."

"Jesus Christ!" Stan shouted. He looked like he was having a panic attack.

"Breathe, Stan! Breathe." He sucked in a shaky breath and closed his eyes in deep concentration. I found it odd that I was the one doing the consoling, even though this was my crisis.

"So, does this mean you're gay?" My mouth dropped. I had been too revolted by the fact my body had reacted to Cartman that way I hadn't even thought about it like that. After all, Cartman _was_ a guy.

"I-I don't think I'm gay!" I protested. I'd never been particularly attracted to guys, aside from this most recent incident. Could it be possible I was gay all along and never knew it?

"Well… do you like chicks?" he asked. I gasped. I'd never had nor desired a girlfriend ever. Besides Rebecca, but I didn't think that she counted, since I was so young, and she was pretty odd. In other words, I would not feel the same way today. But did that make me gay?

"I guess, I don't. But I don't like men either."

"But you find Cartman attractive."

"No! Just what he did!"

"If it was chick, would you not have liked it as much?" I thought about that for a bit, and I tried to picture a girl sucking gently on my hand in the place of Cartman. It wasn't the same.

"It's not as hot. But I still don't think that Cartman should be the determining factor in my sexuality."

"True. We'll let's see..." Stan gulped. "Do you find me attractive?"

"Oh god no! I mean you're fine looking and all, but I know you too well to… ugh, that's so sick dude!" Stan looked relieved.

"Ok, I was just checking. …What about Kenny?"

"Kenny doesn't count either. Straight men would fuck Kenny."

"Haha! I know! Any man would make an exception to tap his ass."

"If anything, being attracted to Kenny only means you have good taste."

"Exactly." Stan laughed a little more. "Yeah, Kenny's a sex god... But anyway. Let me get this straight. Pun not intended."

"Shut up."

"You're _not_ gay, but you don't like women and you do like Cartman. So… your sexual preference is Cartman."

"I really hope that's not true."

"I wouldn't worry about it dude. Maybe you're just freaking out because of all the tension that's been accumulating between you for seventeen years. And if you do like him then I don't care. You'll always be my best friend."

"I don't want to like him though. I hate him. He's the worst, most corrupt and evil human being I've ever met."

"Then don't like him, dumbass."

"Did you just call me a dumbass?" Stan laughed.

"Yeah I did. Hey, just come to the dance on Friday and dance with some hot chicks. If you don't like it then you're probably gay. In which case dance with some hot guys. It is all good."

"God, you're right. You always are. Only… I don't dance."

"Then be a weirdo and stand against the wall. As long as you're outside your house and having fun. And not over thinking things."

"Ok then. Well, I should probably go home now and do some homework."

"I should probably get started on my homework too."

"You mean the homework you were supposed to be doing with Wendy?"

"Get the fuck out of my house!" Stan shouted at me. But he was smiling and I was too. And in that moment, I really felt like everything was going to be all right.

The next day at school was just as weird and awkward as I assumed it would be. I made sure to walk into Health at the absolute last minute so Cartman wouldn't have a chance to talk to me. And I knew he wanted to. As soon as I entered the room he opened his mouth to say something but it was half of a second too late, because just then Mr. Jones started to talk, and he was forced to turn his attention to the front of the classroom.

I tried to ignore Cartman's periodical glances in my direction by focusing on taking so many notes that I wouldn't have a chance to look up and see him. Stan noticed the unusually high quantity of my notes, but he didn't say anything. He already knew what was going on. Instead he talked to Wendy about Friday night, and tried his best not to bother me.

As soon as class was dismissed I bolted from my seat but I had only made it halfway to the door when I heard Wendy calling my name.

"Kyle! Wait up!" I halted in my steps. I didn't want to blow off my best friend girl's and get her all pissed off at me. She trotted up to where I was standing, holding a bright pink envelope. Stan was right behind her.

"If you want to pay for your ticket now I have them right here."

"Oh right. For Friday. Sure." I reached in to my backpack to dig out my wallet, but I froze when I saw Cartman had been standing a few feet away and was now walking over to us.

"What's happening Friday?" he asked casually.

"A fundraiser dance that the Women's Equality Club is hosting." I saw Cartman flinch. Probably in attempt not say anything rude.

"That's… interesting. Too bad school dances aren't my scene."

"It's not hosted by the school. Token agreed to have it at his house, because he is entirely supportive of the Women's Equality Club, and would do anything to help out a good cause." Stan tensed behind her. He had never really gotten over the time Wendy had dumped him for Token, despite the tens of times I told him to stop being such a whiny bitch because he had her back now.

"That sounds… pretty cool actually. How much are the tickets?" Wendy's jaw dropped at Cartman's inquiry. I didn't blame her. I was pretty shocked too.

"Oh, uh, seven dollars. It seems like a lot but it'll be really fun and you'll help out women across the country…" She trailed off as she watched Cartman pull a ten-dollar bill from his pocket and hand it to her.

"Got change?" he asked.

"Yeah. …Thanks." She handed him three dollars and a pink ticket from the envelope. Then she handled me a ticket to and walked away slowly. Stan, Cartman and I all stood together awkwardly, not sure what to do next. I was at least grateful for Stan's company. Without him it would have just been Cartman and me, which was exactly the situation I wanted to avoid. Then, Wendy's voice floated over to us from the doorway of the classroom.

"Sta~an! Come walk me to my next class!" Stan hesitated before running off in her direction. He quickly turned to me and mouthed the word, "sorry" before leaving me alone with…

"So, Kahl."

Maybe if I just walked off he might not follow me. It didn't work. He jogged back to my side in a second, slightly more pissed off than he had been before that second.

"Godammit! Don't avoid me, you kike!"

"Don't call me that!" I screamed, but I quieted down fast when I remembered we were in the middle of the hallway in between classes. And I was not prepared to make a scene.

"Look, I don't want to talk about what happened or anything like that." I felt myself blush heavily, and I cursed my genes for making it so obvious. "I just wanted to know if you're still willing to tutor me after school tomorrow." I hadn't really thought about that.

"Yeah, I'll still tutor you, I guess. Why not?" Maybe because you made out with my hand. And I liked it.

"Really? I'm glad. Ok, then. I'll see you later." And he walked away. That was it? He didn't want to call me a fag for my wanton reaction when he sucked on my paper cut? He didn't want to rub it in my face? Holy shit. That was all he wanted. He just wanted to know if I would still be his tutor. But, why was I so happy about that?

Oh godammit... I did like him.


	6. Cartman's Feelings

I was elated, to say the least, when Kyle said he would still be my tutor even after our strange erotic encounter. As much as I thoroughly enjoyed the situation, I had been afraid that I might have fucked it up for good. But aside from a little awkwardness, nothing was actually wrong. Kyle didn't even seem mad. A little testy maybe, but that was no problem. My plan would not be sunk yet!

The next step was to make Kyle believe I liked him. Then, his faggy Jew conscience would force him to be nice to me. After that, I could start putting on the moves on him and make him want me more than Towelie wanted to get high. I thought it was a fairly decent plan, which could be cleanly executed with the underlining promise of _ultimate profit_.

I couldn't deny its power over me anymore. Hell, I was on verge of having wet dreams about Kyle's blood. I was obsessed. And it was making me sick how defenseless I was. How easily my guard was lost at the sight of that warm, red liquid. I needed to possess it and the vessel that it endlessly ran through.

School on Wednesday seemed to go on for longer than I had ever thought possible. It was equivalent to torture. After sitting through class after class, I thought I might die in anticipation for it all to end. And then it did, and I found myself riding the bus home with Kyle and Kenny. Stan was going over to Wendy's house so he got a ride with her. We three sat in silence fro the first part of the trip. Finally, Kenny got bored and started talking.

"So Kyle, Stan told me you're gay."

"WHAT?" Kyle shouted. My eyes widened and I tried to fight my urge to smirk. But I couldn't help it.

"What's so funny, Cartman?" asked Kenny.

"Nothing at all," I said calmly. But Kenny didn't buy it, and I was still smiling. He raised a suspicious eyebrow at me before turning back to Kyle.

"Don't be mad at Stan for telling me. It wasn't his fault. Besides I could've guessed anyway."

"What does that mean?" Kyle asked.

"You're not interested in girls or boobs. It's very simple when you think about it."

"Yeah but I don't like guys either!"

"Not even me?" Kenny leaned across his seat so his face was pressed uncomfortably close to Kyle's and fluttered his eyelashes. Kyle blushed, and something inside me twisted painfully. It was about time I spoke up.

"Everyone and their brother wants to fuck you, Keenny. Why don't you just leave Kahl alone?" Kenny looked at me over the seat with an expression of confusion, before a large grin settled on his face.

"Whoa, a little defensive aren't we. Is it 'cause I'm too close to _your_ pwecious wittle Kyle?" He pressed Kyle's head to his chest and wrapped his arms around him. I felt another twist. Kenny was seriously pissing me off.

"I said leave him alone, Keenny," I growled. Kenny grinned wider, and I was getting ready to tear him a new asshole.

"Just let me go, Kenny!" Kyle yelled. Kenny winked at me before he released Kyle and moved back to his seat across the aisle. The rest of the ride was spent in silence.

Finally, the bus got to my stop. Kyle and I exited without a word to Kenny, and walked quickly in the direction of my house.

"What?" Kyle said. I stopped to look back at Kyle who was walking few feet behind me.

"'What', what, Kahl? Elaborate because you sound like a retard."

"What was that?" Kyle asked. He looked kind of pissed off. "Is this some sort of game to you guys? Because I'm really _not _in the mood."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said, and it was the truth. Whatever Kyle was angry about was completely lost on me.

"I'm talking about you two fucking with me on the bus! I mean, don't you think this is hard enough as it is. It's not like everything's "sthuper" now that I'm gay! I'm dealing with a lot of tough shit right now! I have no idea what I'm going to tell my parents…"

"Kahl, I promise you, we were not fucking with you. At least not me. Maybe Kenny was, but I wasn't I swear."

"Then why did you tell him to leave me alone and act like I was your possession or something?"

"I don't know. I just didn't like the way he was acting with you!"

"Well, I don't want you acting like you're some sort of overprotective boyfriend! I don't belong to you, and I'm definitely not 'yours'!"

"But I want you to be." … Huh. I hadn't expected that to just jump out of my mouth. And apparently neither had Kyle, because he didn't move or say anything after that. "Sorry, uh, I'm not sure why I'm apologizing, but that was pretty uncalled for."

Maybe this could work to my advantage… I might be able to turn this unexpected confession into the one I was planning to give later. I just had to play my cards exactly right so it would fit into the unplanned circumstance.

"Look Kahl, I like you a lot. And I didn't think I would ever tell you, but since you're gay and I might actually have a chance, there you go. Do I have a chance, Kahl?" He stared at me in awe, before looking away at nothing in particular. His cheeks gained a light pink tinge that made my insides feel fuzzy.

"I-I don't know."

"That's ok," I sighed in half-real disappointment. "We'll just skip our study session today and you can think it over on your own."

"Yeah… I think that would be best."' He turned around and walked in the direction of his house, while I continued walking in the direction of mine. Now we play the waiting game, to see if Kyle actually comes around. If not, there was always the fallback plan…

The next day of school was just as I thought it would be. Health was mostly uncomfortable, but I could already tell that wheels were turning in Kyle's head, and I hoped for the best. He didn't look like he had gotten much sleep the night before, but that must've been a good sign. It meant that he really wasn't sure whether to give me a chance yet, which meant he didn't completely object to the idea.

Friday came before I realized it, and after school I found myself picking out a dress shirt for the faggy dance I had only agreed to go to so that I could manipulate Kyle into thinking I was a caring person. Now I was going to follow through with the task by showing up and hanging out for a while. Maybe I'd vandalize some of Token's things when he wasn't looking, and then leave once I was sure Kyle had seen me there. Dances were really not my forte. Mostly because no one ever wanted to dance with me, and I never had anyone to talk to at large social events. Except Butters. But that was just… Ugh.

I settled on a crisp white button-down shirt and a pair of dark jeans, because I really didn't give shit to think anymore about it. I wasn't some chick who needed to change their outfit twenty times before they left the house.

"Hey Meem! Can I take the car?" I shouted from my room.

"Where are you going, schnookims?"

"To Token's house for some lame-ass fundraiser dance!"

"Well, alright hon!"

I ran downstairs and grabbed the keys off the kitchen counter. Then, I was out the door faster than Jimmy on steroids. I just hoped this whole shitty event would be over soon.

When I arrived at Token's house, there was barely any parking. I found a spot a block away and I went straight to the house, already wanting to be at home watching T.V. I saw Wendy was outside the front door of the manor collecting tickets with her bitchy friends. Shit! I had left my ticket at home. Hopefully Wendy would cut me some slack for once and let me in without any trouble.

"Wendy!" I shouted to her and waved as I approached their table. "Hey, I forgot my ticket, but you remember me buying it right?"

"Oh, yeah I do! It's fine. Go ahead in, Cartman!"

"Thanks I owe you one!" Bitch. I didn't owe her anything. I walked into Token's house, surprised to find that all of the furniture had been stored away somewhere, and the main floor of the house had been transformed into one giant dance floor. It would've been totally pitch black if not for rotating flashes of colored lights. It was actually pretty sweet what they had done with the lighting, but it didn't make me enjoy the party any more.

Lately, I was just feeling pretty depressed in general and I really had no idea why. It was probably because I hadn't sucked any blood that week. Normally, I'd hunt down an animal in the woods after school or something, but I had been so preoccupied with Kyle and attaining his glorious blood that I had completely brushed it off. That must've been it. Totally not because I was in love with Kyle or anything like that. Of course not. Wait what? I really needed a drink.

I went into the kitchen looking something to take my mind off of whatever was making me pissy. I wasn't surprised that there was no alcohol being served. After all, Token's parents were hosting, and they were all against underage drinking. And I wouldn't have had any even if they were serving it. The last time I had alcohol was in middle school when I drunk a bunch of my mom's vodka. However, that didn't turn out too pretty, because I got totally smashed and then sucked all the blood out of Mr. Kitty. I was really upset after that, and I swore to never drink alcohol again unless my life depended on it.

Instead of alcoholic beverages in the kitchen, I found a bowl of fruit punch and Butters. All alone. In the kitchen. What a freak.

"Hey Eric! I didn't know you were gonna be here!"

"I'm surprised you left your house, Butters. Then, again if it was only to stand around in someone else's kitchen, that's really disappointing."

"Yeah, well, it's not like I had anyone to hang out with. But since you're here…!"

"No, no, Butters. I'm _not_ spending my evening with a stupid fucking homo like you."

"B-but Eric! We could have a lot of fun! Like, I was gonna suggest we spike our drinks. That would make this party even more exciting."

"Anything's more exciting then standing alone in a fucking kitchen, Butters. And I don't drink alcohol, so you can forget about that."

"Neither do I. We would use each other's blood." I froze. Now that was an idea worth looking into.

"I'm up for that," I said casually.

"But we shouldn't do it in the kitchen. Someone could walk in and see us. Let go in to the bathroom."

"Nope. No way. I'm not going into the bathroom with you."

"Ugh, fine. Ok, then, well, come over here. And grab yourself a glass of punch."

I picked up a cup and walked over to the where he was standing. Luckily the punch was red so it wouldn't be too big of a color difference. Butters pulled a pocketknife out of his pants, which I personally found highly disturbing, and then dragged it along his wrist. Rich, warm blood spilled out and into my cup, and almost as soon as the flow had begun, it was closed of again by magical regenerating tissue. I could feel my fangs slide out at the sight of blood. Then he handed me the knife and I did the same with his cup. After my wound had healed, I wiped the knife on my jeans, they were too dark to see a smear, and handed it back to Butters.

"Here's to ample blood supply." Butters smiled as he raised his glass. I saw his fangs had also emerged.

"Here's to getting what I want," I said and drunk greedily from my cup. It was incomparable to the sensations that Kyle's blood spurred in me, but in it's own way vampire blood carried a special warmth that spread through my body and comforted me. It was the best I'd felt all day.

I walked back out to the dancing, displeased to find they were playing some hip-hop shit. Not my kind of music. Hadn't DJs ever heard of bands like Aerosmith or Bon Jovi? Jesus, all of this crap sounded the same to me.

I continued to stroll around, observing the crowd for bit. Damn, everybody was here. I even saw Timmy cruising through the crowd. That was weird.

Then I saw a familiar patch of curly red hair. I moved to get a better look, and sure enough there was Kyle with Stan and Kenny, all laughing and dancing. Kenny was wearing jeans so tight it was painful to look at them. I could only imagine what he had suffered to get them on. And now he was dancing in them. Sure, he looked hot as hell, but damn… Best not to think too much about it. I was more concerned about how close he was dancing to Kyle.

While they all danced, Wendy came up and jumped on Stan's back. He spun around and lifted her off the ground. Each one of them looked so… happy.

I felt a sudden pang in my stomach, and I didn't think it was from the punch. It must've had something to do with how Kyle looked. I noticed his hair wasn't sticking up funny like it normally did after being trapped all day inside a hat. It was neatly pushed around his face as if he had styled it. I laughed inwardly. Styling your hair was so gay. But Kyle was gay. And he was happy. Meanwhile, I wasn't.

Kyle's happiness had always pissed me off. I had made it my solitary goal in life to crush him and his happy-go-lucky outlook on the world. And so I did, with endless ploys and plotting, all of it used to fuck with Kyle. Why did I care so much if he was happy? I didn't give a flying shit about anyone except him. But not like that. It wasn't anything more than me wanting him to feel my misery. I wanted him on the same level as me so that he would be sharing all of my emotions. I wanted everyone to hate Kyle just like they hated me. Only, it never worked. All it resulted in was Kyle hating me even more than before.

Then it struck me that I might actually want Kyle to love me. No one had ever loved me, aside from my family. I didn't even have any real close friends. I told all my most important problems and secrets to a stuffed frog. The only person who liked me at all was Kenny, but even though I considered him my closet friend, I still treated him like ghetto dirt. I'd never been close to anybody, and now I wanted Kyle to give me that particular closeness that had been lost on me entirely. But he didn't need me. He was so happy with his friends out on the dance floor. There was no room for my fat ass in his perfect picture of happiness. Not that I was fat. That was more of an expression.

I suddenly didn't feel like doing anything anymore. I downed the rest of my drink, letting the wash of coppery heat spread through my body, before I found a nice spot on the wall that I could stand against, without a view of Kyle and his damned smile.

At times like these, when I bored and upset, I liked to think about all the things I could do with a million dollars. I could buy a theme park. I could buy a shit ton of my blood type. Then I wouldn't need Kyle. No, don't think about that guy. Think about the money. Let's see I could buy a car. Then I wouldn't have to borrow my mom's. Then I could drive so away from this fucking town and never look back. I'm sure that's what I'd do with a million dollars. Get the fuck out of my own pitiful existence.

"Hey Cartman, what's up?" I looked up to see Kyle standing in front of me.

"Nothing, I'm just chilling." I tried to avoid his gaze. I had not forgotten that he still hadn't given me an answer.

"Yeah, this party kind of sucks..." He half-heartedly scratched at the back of his neck.

"You looked like you were having a good time with Stan and Kenny."

"You saw us? Why didn't you come over and say hi?" I shrugged. "Well, yeah, I guess for a while I was. But now Stan's grinding with Wendy, and Kenny ran off to go find Craig or something."

"Craig? I didn't know that anyone would actually go out of their way to talk to that guy." Kyle laughed

"Haha, I know." He looked at me and then looked away. Then, he pointed to the wall I was leaning on. "May I join you?"

"Whatever. I don't fucking care," I said.

"You don't really care about anything, do you? Besides yourself, that is. Oh! I'm sorry! That was mean. I didn't-"

"Just stop talking ok!" I snapped. "That's not true."

"Really?" I glared at Kyle ready to yell at him, but then I realized that he actually wanted to know if I cared about anyone. I looked away again. Damn.

"Of course it's not true. I care about people... I care about you." I didn't know if I was just lying to get what I wanted or if it was actually the truth. Kyle wasn't sure either.

"Cartman, I'm really not sure whether I can trust you, or ever really love you." My heart hurt for no legitimate reason. "But." But… what? "I'm willing to give you chance, so just don't fuck up, ok?"

And for a brief moment I forgot all about being a vampire and wanting to suck Kyle's blood, and I was just happy that I had someone willing to let me be happy with them.


	7. Kyle's a Horror Film Heroine

I glanced over at Cartman, shocked to see a small smile had spread across his lips. He was happy. Genuinely happy. There was no doubt in my mind that his smile was utterly sincere. And it made my stomach do this weird sinking thing that usually only happened to me on carnival rides.

He finished his punch and tossed it into the can a few feet away. Then he scooted closer to me so our forearms were pressed together and stared off into the crowd of people raving on the dance floor. My stomach sunk again, and I tried not to over think how it felt so nice to have that bit of contact between us. Damn me to hell, but I wanted more.

"Do you want to dance?" I asked timidly.

"No," he replied without a beat. I felt momentarily crushed. "Oh, no! Not 'cause of you. I just fucking hate this song."

Then I noticed that "Come Sail Away", by Styx was blasting over the speakers. I cracked up laughing, and he glared at me. Only then I laughed so hard milk came out my nose.

"Hahaha, you got the crappy kidney!" Cartman laughed hysterically. He was starting to tear up.

"Shut up, Cartman!" I yelled. He tried covering his mouth, but it didn't work very well. I punched him really hard in the arm and he still didn't stop. So I punched him again, and again. And then I kicked him. He finally stopped laughing, but he looked pretty pissed off.

"Don't hit me asshole."

"Don't laugh at me douchebag."

"You have to admit, the comedic timing was perfect."

"Pssh whatever." Cartman could be such a dick sometimes.

"Aw, I'm just kidding. Don't be mad, Kahl."

I crossed my arms and angled my body away from him, but he grabbed my waist and pulled me into him easily. It took me a second to realize that he was hugging me. I gasped and blushed, feeling kind of like a girl, but nonetheless loving every feeling that was spreading all through my abdomen. I managed to shakily move my arms around him, which made him hold me even tighter when that he realized I wasn't going to try to get away.

"Cartman…" I said, as I buried my face into his shirt. He smelled really good, like soap and laundry detergent.

"You can call me Eric," he muttered, and my stomach did that flippy thing again. I really liked him in that moment. I liked Eric Cartman, and I liked him a lot. Even though he was the person I considered my only enemy. He was the person I would've described as pure, unadulterated evil just last week. But last week had past, and now it was today. Today I had agreed to be his boyfriend. Today he was holding me with a tenderness of which I never thought he was capable. Even though he was Eric Cartman, the one person I vowed never to show compassion to, or let my guard down around, something about today made me believe that none of that mattered anymore. Today, was special. And I thought today might be the most perfect day to let my inhibitions go and really get lost in moment.

"Can I kiss you, Eric?" The words were out of my mouth before they had reached the conscious part of my brain. Cartman jerked away from me suddenly, eyes wide, and I instantly regretted the request. "I'm sorry! That was really forward... Just forget I said anything."

"No, it's ok. You can kiss me," he said to the wall.

"Really? Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yeah. It's fine." He was blushing so hard he could've rivaled me. I slowly stepped towards him and wrapped my arms around his neck. He responded by resting his hand securely on my waist. Then I closed the distance between us and tenderly pressed my lips against his. Despite my soft presence, he remained absolutely frozen against me. It felt like I was kissing a statue or something. I pulled away.

"You know you can kiss back, right? I promise I won't bite." He let out a predatory growl and grabbed my chin, pulling me roughly back against his mouth. Now that was better. I'd never kissed anyone besides Rebecca, Bebe and a few incidents during a game of "spin the bottle", but none of them were really good or enjoyable instances. This was nice though. It had feeling in it. Passion. It didn't even occur to me that at any moment one our classmates could walk by and witness this blatant act of homosexuality. The fact that I was with Cartman made everything else around me fade away. It was just us.

I didn't resist when he pushed his tongue into my mouth. As much as I thought it would be disgusting and I wouldn't like it at all, it really wasn't that bad. I mean it wasn't amazing. Having another person's tongue in your mouth was pretty fucking weird… but not in a bad way. I relished in our unreserved closeness, leaning father into him and boldly allowing my tongue tangle with his. His mouth tasted fruity like punch, but it also tasted oddly like blood, which was unexpected and bizarre. I didn't really mind though. Then I brushed against something so sharp it sank right into the flesh of my tongue.

"Ah!" I jerked my head back as blood gushed out of my stinging tongue and into my mouth. "What the fuck was that! Do you have a toothpick in your mouth? Shit, it hurts!" I grabbed the collar of my shirt and pressed it onto my tongue trying to absorb most of the awful taste, but it was seeping through the fabric fast. I bolted away from Cartman, and into to the Black's kitchen in search of a towel or anything I could use to halt the bleeding. Butters was in there looking through the cabinets. It was kind of weird.

"Oh hey Kyle. Hey Eric," Butters said as I came in. I turned around to see Cartman had followed me. "Is something wrong fellas?"

"I cut my tongue and its bleeding pretty bad. I need a towel or something. Do you know where they are?" Butter paled.

"Oh, actually, I should be going now. I'll see you guys later," and he ran out of the kitchen.

"Ok! Thanks a lot, Butters!" I yelled after him, and I walked over to the paper towel dispenser. As much as I was grossed out by the idea putting paper in my mouth, the pool of blood was growing at an unpleasant rate and I didn't have time to search for any cloth towels. I needed instant relief.

Cartman stood a few feet away and watched in horror and I soaked through each sheet with ease.

"God, Kahl, I'm so sorry!"

"You should be!" I said in between paper towels. "I can't believe this hasn't stopped bleeding yet! I really hope don't pass out."

"Ugh, this is making me sick." Cartman turned away from me, and placed his hands on the counter to support himself.

"Whatever! You're not even the one bleeding!" I shouted. But even as I yelled at him, I could see from the reflections of the light that he had broken out in a cold sweat. "Jesus, Cartman. Are you really that squeamish?" He flipped around.

"I am not squeamish. I just can't concentrate or think with that smell in the air! Dammit!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I asked, confused. Then I saw something a little irregular. The dance floor had been too dark, but now in the light of the kitchen I could see that two of Cartman's teeth were longer than the rest. And they were sharp. "Wait, that's what cut me?" Cartman's eyes widened and he turned away.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"No, no way. I just saw…" I drifted off in my thoughts. Were those fangs? Since when did Cartman have fangs? I had never noticed them before, so this was something new? Some strange fad I had never heard of? Was putting really sharp fake teeth in your mouth suddenly in? They hadn't felt fake when one of them slashed into my tongue.

I suddenly found it increasingly hard to swallow.

"Cartman, what are those?" I waited, but nothing was said. He was still facing away from me. "Answer me, godammit!" I shrieked. Finally, he turned around. He had a mixed look of surprise and pain on his face. "Don't fucking tell me those are really your teeth. Tell me it's a weird fad or something cause there's no way. There's no way in hell." But he didn't say anything, he just looked at me with that same weird expression. I felt fear creep through my veins and curl up and around my spine. "Tell me they're not real," I whimpered.

"Kahl, I can explain. Please let me explain."

"They are real? Oh my god. Those things are actually your teeth. You're a _monster_. You're a fucking _monster_."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Kahl."

"No, you're fucking monster! Get away from me! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" Contrary to my demands, he lunged towards me and clamped his hand down on my mouth. I struggled and tried to pry his fingers away, but his grip was one of immeasurable strength. I bit down into his skin, but he wasn't even fazed. He just clutched me against him and yanked me towards the stairs in the main lobby. No one at the party noticed or cared that I was being dragged up the stairs to meet certain death.

Cartman successfully got me up the stairs and into the empty bathroom at the end of the hall, throwing me on the ground before locking the door behind us. I landed hard on my shoulder, gasping in pain from the impact. Now I could no longer fight the tears of terror that spilt out from my eyes. And I didn't cry because of any pain I was feeling in my shoulder and my still bleeding tongue. It was because I was afraid of the person I had momentarily thought I was truly safe with. And I was locked in a bathroom with him.

I felt Cartman kneel beside me and pull me into his arms. I struggled with all my might, punching and kicking, but he was too strong. He could've killed me right then if he wanted to. I thought he was going to too. But he didn't. Instead he ran his hand up and down my back in a comforting motion. The dread in my mind slowly subsided, but I wouldn't let my guard down again. At least not today.

"Are... you going to kill me?" I asked. I just felt like I should know in case that's what was coming.

"No. I won't kill you."

"Would you mind telling to me what the hell is going on?" Cartman dropped his arms from around me and stood up.

"I am not a monster. I'm a vampire. I have been since I was nine," he said as he walked over to the sink. "I didn't tell you the truth before Kahl, because I wanted you to trust me first. I should've known you would find out anyway. I'm sorry."

"Vampires exist?" I asked dumbly.

"Yes."

"And you're one of them."

"Yes."

"So this whole time…"

"Yep."

"How did you become one?"

"Another vampire bit me, and injected me with a vampire venom."

"Who bit you?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't!" He leaned onto the sink and racked a shaky hand through his hair. "Look Kahl, your tongue is still bleeding. I can smell it all the way over here and it's really overwhelming. I'm at my last wit's end so please just open a fucking window or something! Before I do something I regret!" I got up and quickly opened the small window above the toilet.

"Is that better?" I asked as I fanned air in and out of the small, confined room with my hand.

"No," he groaned. He was obviously struggling in a fight against his own instincts, but the outcome didn't look to good for me. I'd seen plenty of vampire horror films, and from my current position, I'd determined I was most likely the helpless heroine, doomed to be Dracula's dinner. I needed to get away from Cartman before that scene arrived. I made a run for the exit, but before I had a good grip on the handle, he grabbed me by the shoulders, spun me around so I was facing him, and slammed me backwards into the door. His eyes were inches away from mine, and they were filled with desire and uncertainty. I knew he didn't want to hurt me. Maybe I could convince him to let me go.

"Eric, please," I begged. "Please don't hurt me." He tensed and jerked his head back, but his arms remained, securely restraining my shoulders. He was trying to get away from me, but he was fighting his own body. I reached a hand up and laced it in his thick brown hair. Then I pulled his head down far enough that I could lean forward and kiss him.

"Please, let me go," I murmured desperately into his lips. "I really like you. I don't want you to hurt me."

"Kahl..." he moaned. I moaned too and opened my mouth to let him have a larger access. That was a huge mistake. My tongue was still raw and bloody from my last encounter with his fangs. He choked on the taste of my blood and pulled away with a wild look in his eyes. I knew there would be no stopping him now. "I'm sorry." He ripped his head out my grasp, tugged my shirt away from my neck.

I wanted to scream, but the pain that shot up my body as he tore through my skin and flesh had constricted my throat, preventing any sound or air from escaping. Then he started to suck. The sensation of all of my blood being sucked out of my body was draining to say the least. All at once I became dangerously light-headed, and the strength I had left was steadily being taken away. The only thing keeping me from collapsing on the floor was Cartman's arms, which remained pinning me to the door of the bathroom. My vision started to get fuzzy, and I knew that at any moment I could lose consciousness.

"Eric… You're killing me… You have to stop… stop…" I shook my head from side to side trying to shake him off of me, and I lifted my arms to push him away, but I could barely apply pressure. "You have to… nnng!" I whimpered as he pulled his fangs out of my neck.

"Run, Kahl!" he spluttered and gasped. My blood dribbled down his chin. "I can't, ugh, fight it for long... Please! You have to get away from me!" He released his grip on my shoulders, and by some miracle I was able to find my footing, unlock the door, and bolt from the room without a backwards glance.

I clutched the bloody mess he had made of my neck, and I ran all the way down the stairs and out the door, trying not to think about the still seeping wound. I just kept running. I ran until I had finally reached my car. Just in time. I was able to get in the driver's seat and close the door right before I completely passed out.


	8. Cartman's a Fag

I waited a full thirty seconds before the taste in my mouth drove me insane, and couldn't help running after him. But just like I had hoped, he was nowhere to be found. I was ridiculously relieved that Kyle had gotten away, but now I had to deal with myself. I didn't want to lose control and kill someone at the party, but Butters was absolutely right when he'd said stopping before you reach "the limit" was way worse than blue balls. It was in another league entirely.

I ran into the kitchen, for lack of a better plan, however Butters wasn't in there. Meanwhile, I felt like I was going to die. I thought about pulling Kyle's blood soaked paper towels out of the trash and sucking on those just so I could feel a little less like I did right then, however, my pride would not let me stoop that low. Even if I was an uncontrollable blood-sucking monster, at least I had dignity.

"Hey Eric. Are you ok?" Butters said as he walked up behind me. I didn't hesitate grabbing him by the arm and yanking him through the first un-opened door I found. Which turned out to be a broom closet. Good thing I wasn't in the mood to be picky. I shoved him up against the closet wall and sank my teeth into the soft flesh on his shoulder. It wasn't like Kyle. Nothing was like Kyle. But at least now I had something there to fill my senses like before. And I sucked and gulped until I couldn't drink another drop. Then I collapsed on the floor.

Butters whimpered as I released him, but I wasn't worried. In less than a minute he had completely healed up. Then he sat down on the ground next to me with a serious expression.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

"I lost control. I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"What happened?" he asked again. I sighed.

"I drank Kyle's blood. But I had to stop myself before I killed him or turned him into a vampire. So I did, but I didn't realize how fucking awful it would be."

"Well, you know, next time you have to stop early you could always jack off. Having an orgasm satisfies your body and your hunger for blood, remember?"

"Oh yeah. I didn't think of that," I said. That would be a good thing to remember for another time.

"You know, I don't blame you for losing control. Kyle did smell very tasty."

"Stay the fuck away from him, Butters. He's my prey." I glared menacingly while Butters laughed.

"It's ok, Eric. I'm only teasing. But in all seriousness, if Kyle tells anyone you're vampire, you have to kill him."

"Yeah. I understand..." I was quiet for moment before saying, "I should go." Then I stood up and came out of the closet. Not like that! Jesus…

"See ya, Eric!" Butters waved to me and didn't make any move to leave. I wondered how long he would stay in there after I left. Butters was such a freak.

I left the Black's house, with no hesitation to say goodbye to anyone, and began walking to my car. But then I stopped, cause I noticed Kyle's car was still parked across the street. Technically it wasn't his. It was his father's, but his dad rarely drove it so Kyle used it to get everywhere he went. I hadn't seen it there before, but since it was there right now, did that mean Kyle was still at the party? I didn't think he would stay. Not after I sucked the life out of him.

I gave into curiosity and walked over to his car. It didn't take me long to realize Kyle was actually in his car, or he owned a very convincing body double but I doubted that. I also saw he wasn't moving. Hurriedly, I pulled open the door to the driver's seat and Kyle slid out of it and into my arms. I checked his pulse and was immensely relieved to find he was still alive. For a moment, I actually felt _guilty_ for making him lose consciousness. I'd never felt guilty before in my life besides that time with Mr. Kitty, but I mostly just felt bad for myself. Usually I was pretty selfish. Why should I care about Kyle's condition if it wasn't affecting me? I shouldn't, but I did. I responsible for this, and it was my job to amend my mistakes.

I shut the door to his car with my foot and carried him to my car a block away. There, I was able to assess his current condition. His neck had stopped bleeding and had dried over, but he looked paler than normal and his pulse was frighteningly slow. I placed him upright in the back seat and strapped him in to ensure no more damage would be dealt. I was a safe driver, but that didn't mean I didn't make sharp turns and stop abruptly. Sometimes. Doesn't everyone?

I drove us back to my house. Kyle still was not awake, but he also was not dead. That was most encouraging. I carried him through the door and up the stairs, not surprised to discover my mother had gone out earlier. Whatever. She was a ho.

When we got to my room, I kicked the door open and lay Kyle on my bed. I was still full of Butter's blood, so the sight of the caked and crusted blood dried over Kyle's neck and shirt didn't drive me to manslaughter, but it did make my fangs extend and cut into my lower lip. The stinging feeling that lingered gave me an idea.

Not without a struggle, I pulled Kyle's shirt off over his head, stopping for a moment to appreciate the lean muscle that filled out his thin form. Then I bit down on my lip, sinking my teeth in painfully deep. Blood poured from my newly made cuts, and I bent forward to press my lips against the wound I'd left on Kyle.

Just as I thought it would, flesh crept over and into the gash, healing and sealing it shut. I felt my lip heal over too. Then I went to the bathroom to get a damp rag I could use to clean up any dried blood that remained on his skin. When I was done, I threw the rag and Kyle's shirt in the wash so they wouldn't tempt me later.

I checked on Kyle one last time before going down to the kitchen to make him some food. He would be hungry when he woke up, and a sandwich would help him get his strength and his delectable blood back. I left it on my bedside dresser, figuring it would be fine over night. Then I went down stairs to watch T.V. as I had longed to all day. But I was only halfway through my first episode of nothing when I passed out from exhaustion.

I was woken up some hours later both by the sun in my eyes and Kyle shouting profanities from my room. I jolted awake and ran up the stairs with no hesitation. To my surprise, Kyle was lying on my bedroom floor.

"What are you doing?" I asked with one eyebrow raised.

"I fell out your bed. I kind of freaked out when I woke up in your bed with no shirt on."

"Huh. I hope you don't mind, but I put in the wash for you. It was… bloody."

"Yeah…" He pushed himself up with his elbows and massaged the area of his neck that my teeth had previously been latched onto. "Wait, what happened to the-?"

"My blood has magical healing powers. I smeared some over the bite." With my mouth. Only I didn't say that part.

"Really? Well… my tongue is still pretty raw. Could you…?"

"Sure. Hang on a second." I pulled open the first drawer of my dresser and took out my old Swiss army knife. Kyle look aghast as I flipped it open and slid it up my wrist. "Lick this where your tongue is sore." Reluctantly he complied, stepping forward to take hold of my wrist and licked along the slit. It occurred to me how kinky this was, but I refrained from saying anything. Kyle watched with wide eyes as my wrist mended itself and closed up almost instantly.

"That's handy," he said softly. "My tongue's better."

"Good. Then you should eat something. Here," I handed him the sandwich from last night, "this is for you."

"You made me a sandwich?" He blushed, and so did I when I realized how caring I was being. I never cared about anyone and Kyle would not be any exception. I just wanted him for his blood, right? It was all about my personal gain.

"It was nothing. Fuck. Just eat it, why don't you?"

"What's on this sandwich?" he asked.

"Ham and cheese."

"I can't eat ham." I stared at him blankly.

"Why the fuck not?"

"Because pig meat isn't kosher."

"Oh. My. God. You fucking Jew."

"Shut up!"

"Just take the ham off then, Miss Complainy Pants."

"I can't. The whole sandwich isn't kosher because of the ham!"

"Then make yourself a new sandwich! 'Cause I'm _not_ making another one. Fuck that!"

"Fine! I will!" he shouted. He walked past me, stumbled, and fell on his knees. I was at his side in a second.

"You idiot, you barely have any strength left," I said as I pulled his arm over my shoulder. With my help, Kyle made it down the stairs unscathed. I set him down on the couch and went into the kitchen to make him another sandwich. But not cause I cared. It was because he was so damn pathetic, and I didn't want him to injure himself and start bleeding. That would be bad.

"Here you go," I said and set the second sandwich of the day on his lap. "No meat."

"Thank you," he said, and he bit into it hungrily. I sat beside him on the couch and turned the T.V. on to MTV for lack of a better idea. It was some generic reality show about rich people. Isn't it always?

"We should talk," Kyle said when he finished his sandwich.

"Jesus! You have no idea how much like a woman you sounded right then. Are you sure you don't have vagina? Somewhere? You know, the thing that bleeds once a month and makes you a bitch."

"Just shut the fuck up and listen to me!" he shouted. I was silent. "Ok! God! Is it so had to be a decent human being every once and a while." He suddenly looked away from me and blushed. "But I'm not giving you enough credit. You've changed. You're more compassionate. And I still like you. I didn't think I would, but I do."

My stomach lurched unexpectedly when he said that. He still liked me. Someone liked me, and it was Kyle. After all those years I'd spent being a giant prick to Kyle, he still liked me.

"So what does that mean?" I asked.

"It means I want to still be together."

"Even though I'm a monster."

"I didn't mean that."

"I was told that if you tell anyone I'm a vampire I have to kill you." He started when I said the word "kill", but then he laughed.

"Ha, you'd probably enjoy it, you damn sadist."

"Ay!"

"Heheh. So… I can't even tell Stan?" He looked sad. I felt annoyed.

"No you can't tell Stan! He'd tell everybody! He's the one who told everybody you were gay. With the help of his bitch girlfriend of course."

"Don't talk about Stan and Wendy like that. They're my friends," said Kyle. He had his legs drawn up against his still bare chest, and his curly red hair fell in light tendrils on his forehead and ears. I couldn't help but think he was looking pretty gorgeous despite being pissed at me. Maybe even more because he was pissed at me… And he was watching me check him out. Whoops. "What are you staring at, dumbass?"

"Nothing," I said too quickly. He let go of his legs and leaned over onto me. I could feel the heat radiating from his body. "Kahl stop. I don't want to lose control again like before, and suck all the blood out of you." That was only partially true. The other reason I wanted to be as far away from his as possible was that I was extremely turned on by him. But I didn't want him for anything but his blood, right? Right? Even though he liked me, that didn't change anything right?

"Am I really so _tasty_ that I can make you lose control?"

"Oh my god, you have no idea." Kyle pushed himself off me and walked out of my living room. I was tempted to follow him, wherever he went, but I stayed on my couch instead. From the fear of myself wanting to follow him. Something was wrong with my brain.

Kyle walked back into the living a few moments with his shirt on. I was relieved and disappointed at the same time. I noticed that the blood had come out completely, just like I assumed it would, but seeing it now I was glad. It would've been unfortunate if my wild antics had cost Kyle a perfectly decent t-shirt.

"I'm gonna go sleep for the rest of the day," he said while massaging his temples with his palms. "Where's my car?"

"Sorry, I left it at Token's house…"

"No that's fine. I'll get it later. Uh, so I'll see you at school?"

"Yeah. Sounds right," I muttered.

"Ok. And we can study after school."

"Yeah, hella." Kyle grimaced and leaned down in front of me. I was still sitting on the couch.

"Don't ever say that again, Cartman." And he kissed me. It was light and feathery and over in a second. Then he waved and walked out my house. I was left sitting on my couch daydreaming about his soft Jew lips. Maybe I was gay too. It wouldn't be that bad. After all, I would have Kyle. No, that didn't sound very bad at all.


	9. Kyle's Not an Object

I was actually looking forward to school on Monday. I was mostly looking forward to after school when I could be alone with Cartman, my boyfriend, in his room. Not that I wanted to do anything dirty! Just make out for a while, instead of doing homework. Like Stan and Wendy. Cartman could be my Wendy, only not because we're both guys. So he could just be mine with no weird analogies whatsoever. Cartman was mine.

I walked into my familiar high school, already anxious to leave that afternoon, and was surprised to Stan waiting for me in front of my locker. I hadn't talked to him since the dance. Whoops.

"Hey Stan," I said as I approached him. Stan jumped at my sudden appearance and immediately dragged me away from my locker and into the nearest boy's bathroom.

"Dude!" was the first thing he said, as soon as he was sure we were alone. "Where the fuck did you go Friday?"

"Uh, Cartman's house," I mumbled. Stan's mouth dropped.

"What? WHAT? Why!" He was freaking out.

"Calm the fuck down, Stan. Nothing happened! Now tell me what happened with Wendy! …Did you guys, err…?"

"No!" he shouted and slumped against one of the stalls.

"Why not? What happened?"

"Well we were at the dance, having fun-"

"Grinding."

"Yeah. Don't interrupt me, smartass. So, eventually she was like 'Stan, I'm tired! Take me home!'" I laughed when Stan's voice got considerably higher in impersonation of Wendy. It sounded pretty accurate too. "And I took her home like a good boyfriend, and also because I was hoping to get some action after we left."

"Totally."

"So we were making out in my car before she went inside and she leaned over to me and said, 'Stan, you can come in if you want.' It was so hot, and of course I was like 'Hell yes!' But when we went up to her house, we saw her front door was open, and she was totally freaked out. Anyway, she called 911 and we waited in the car for Barbrady to show up. Then when he got there he searched the place, and guess who he found. Just guess."

"Uh, damn, I don't know. Halfy?"

"Haha, good guess. But no. It was Mr. Garrison."

"Sick dude!"

"I know. He had snuck into Wendy's house and was in her room reading all of her girly magazines. Apparently he does that a lot to a bunch of different girls, 'cause he can't buy those magazines in public, or something."

"Dude that guy is so fucked up!"

"I know. I didn't learn anything from him in elementary school, except to never trust a puppet."

"Back to the story..."

"Right, so, Barbrady took him down to the jail, even though he probably let him go an hour later. Our law enforcement system sucks ass."

"Another tangent."

"Sorry. Anyway Wendy was really freaked out, and she was like 'Staaaaaan, could I pretty please stay at your place tonight?'" He fluttered his eyelashes at me for added effect. "And right off the bat I knew I wouldn't be getting any. My parents are so freaked out at the idea of me having sex."

"That's why they let you guys make out in your room."

"Dude, you don't even know. That was like the first time in years that they let us go undisturbed, and you just had to walk in… You still totally owe me one."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry dude."

"Oh shit! I didn't even tell you the best part!"

"What?"

"Wendy had to sleep in Shelly's room." My expression must've conveyed raw horror because Stan nodded and said, "I know, I know! She wouldn't even speak to me in the morning. She just left. God, She must've been livid…"

"Dude that sucks! Have you talked to her since then?"

"No way! I was too afraid to."

"I don't blame you. Shelly's a tyrant. She's worse than my mom. Why hasn't she left for college again?"

"Because, she's telling my parents she going to some online college, so they just let her sit in her room all day and eat their food. But she's probably just spending the whole time emailing her Hungarian boyfriend, Mark. I can't even imagine what kinds of torture she must've put Wendy through." Stan looked pretty disturbed just from his imagination.

"Look," I said, "you have to stop being a total wimp about this. Wendy's probably not as pissed as you think she is. At least not at you. You didn't do anything wrong. Wendy's cool. She'll totally understand that you couldn't control whatever happened between her and Shelly behind closed doors."

"Ugh, god. It's just so terrible. And now I have to go sit next to her in Health. I have no fucking idea what to say."

"Holy shit! Health! Dude, what time is it?"

"Oh dude, the tardy bell rang a while ago. I thought you heard…"

"No! Fuck no! I wouldn't stand here and listen to your problems if I thought it was going to make me late to class!"

"Harsh dude," Stan said, but I knew he didn't really care. We both bolted out of the bathroom, me in the lead, and ran like hell to our current class.

"Most people live with HIV for several years before developing AIDS… Why, hello there Kyle and Stan. Nice of you to join us for class today," said Mr. Jones as we burst into the classroom.

"Hey… sorry… we lost track of time," was all I could say in between breaths.

"That's fine. I hope you won't mind that I mark you boys tardy. You have to understand that everything you do has consequences. Sometimes those consequences are good, but they can also be _bad_. For example, losing track of time makes you tardy, and being promiscuous gets you AIDS. Now if you'll look at this diagram…" I started to tune our teacher out when I reached my seat. I'd already had AIDS before so I already knew everything there was to know.

Stan leaned over towards me and said, "Kyle we should totally hang out after school today. You want to come over?"

"Can't. I'm studying with Cartman after school today."

"You've ditched me for Cartman so many times in the past couples weeks… Jesus, its like you're married or something."

"Yeah… Um, I was meaning to tell you, Stan. Cartman and I…"

"Stan! Kyle!" We turned our heads to the front of the classroom. Mr. Jones was staring at us with a condemning look. "If you came to my class late only to continue talking, I'm going to ask you to leave." I blushed a deep shade of red and Stan turned away from me in embarrassment.

Mr. Jones went back to lecturing the class, and as soon as his eyes were off of me I scribbled a note to Stan saying, "Sorry, but I'm ditching you for Cartman." Stan read the note and flipped me off, but I knew he didn't really care. I could see from the way his desk was scooted against Wendy's that they had probably already worked everything out and he didn't require my company anyway. I thought about telling him about my relationship with Cartman, but I didn't think he could handle the shock of the situation in the middle of class.

"I want you all the fill out this fact sheet without looking at your notes, but I will permit you to work with a partner in order to share data and so forth." While, Mr. Jones started coming around to hand out the sheets, I turned to Stan.

"Are you working with Wendy?" I asked.

"Yeah, she's fine with the whole Shelly-thing. Well, not fine, but she still loves me." He gave me a goofy "I love my girlfriend" smile. It almost made me want to gag.

"That's great, Stan." I turned around in my seat and looked about the room. I didn't really need a partner. I remembered all the facts with ease, but usually I might pair up with Tweek or Jimmy just for conversational purposes. However, at that moment I saw Cartman speedily approaching my desk. It never even occurred to me that we should be partners... even though we were _dating_. Way to be retarded, me.

"Hey," I said to him as he walked up to my desk. I was stunned when he slammed his hands furiously down in front of me. "Whoa! What the fuck?"

"Why did you come in late with Stan?" Cartman snapped at me.

"We were talking and didn't hear the bell," I said.

"Really? What were you talking about?" Oh god, Cartman was jealous. I really did not want to deal with his insecurity issues in the middle of class.

"I'm not doing this here," I muttered, before I pushed myself past him and up to the teacher's desk. "Mr. Jones, can Cartman and I work in the hallway?"

"Yeah, sure. No cheating though."

"Yes sir." Quickly, I went back to my desk. I picked up the fact sheet and grabbed Cartman by the sleeve. Then I dragged him out into the hallway, where I then sat down against one of the walls. Cartman stayed standing a few feet away from me.

"Hey, you didn't answer my question." He was not about to let this go.

"Shut up Cartman. You have no reason to be jealous of Stan. He's my best friend and always will be. He will never be more than that and he will never be less than that, so let it go."

"What were you guys talking about that made you miss class?" I sighed audibly.

"We were talking about Wendy. She had to send the night at Stan's house because she was afraid of someone breaking into her house while her parents were out of town. But she had to sleep in Shelly's room." I saw Cartman wince, and I tried not to smile. All the guys in our group were well aware of the monstrosity that was Stan's older sister. It was just one of those things that united us as friends. "Yeah, and he was worried that she was pissed off at him. But just as I thought, Wendy's fine and Stan's just a whiny bitch."

"Heh, yeah. Stan's a fag. I mean… Um, that doesn't work anymore." Cartman grinned at me in a way that made my mind short circuit. I tried to re-grasp my bearings as he sat down beside me, but he snaked his arm around my waist, and I was immediately flooded with the intoxicating sent of soap and Cartman. It was quite nice actually.

"So. Anyway. We should work on this fact stuff," I murmured.

"You're such a nerd," he snickered.

"Fuck you, asshole. Here," I handed him the paper, "you write it down so it looks like you did something."

"Kay," he said, and he started scribbling our names down at the top of the sheet. "You're still coming over today right?"

"Yeah, of course. Stan was trying to get me to hang out with him, but I told him I was ditching him for you. The answer to number one is '85%'."

"You spend too much time with Stan anyway," he mumbled.

"Actually I really haven't seen him that much lately. That's probably why we were so distracted at the beginning of class. Because we've barely talked to each other at all these past few weeks. Two is 'India'."

"I still think you spend too much time with Stan..."

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Cartman. Number three is '2007'."

"I'm not jealous. Jealousy implies that I want something that isn't mine. What I want is for Stan to keep his fucking hands off what's mine."

"I'm not an object! I'm a person. You have to share me with other people. The answer to number four is 'immune system'."

"Fuck Kahl. How do you remember all this shit?"

"I don't know. I just do. They're only facts… Number five is 'T-cell count'."

"Right. Anyway. Like hell I'm going to share you with other people. You're mine."

"No, I'm not. You can't own me. I have free will. Number six is '15 and older'."

"Godammit! I don't care what number six is! Why the fuck am I filling out this stupid handout?" Cartman tried to throw the sheet of paper across the hallway, but it just twisted through the air and landed back at his feet. He grunted in frustration and crumpled the paper into a ball so it would successfully go where he wanted it to.

"Hey! I care!" I shouted. "Unlike you, I give a damn about how I do in the class! You should be grateful for the free points." Cartman glared at me and un-crumpled the piece of paper. Then he shoved it into my lap.

"You fill it out then." He stood up and started walking down the hallway.

"Wait, what, where are you going?" I stuttered. He looked back over his shoulder.

"I don't know. Somewhere. You could come if you like." I winced. As much as I really wanted to go wherever Cartman was going, I didn't want to jeopardize my attendance or my grade. And the thought of skipping out of class made my stomach churn in the most unpleasant manner. Damn me for being a goody-goody.

"I… can't," I said after a moment's hesitation.

"Yeah, I know. I'll see you after school," he yelled back to me. "Oh, and Kahl. You're totally mine, whether you know it now or not."

Jesus. Was that a threat? All of a sudden, I was feeling very nervous about hanging out with Cartman later. But I had to push that out of my mind. One thing at a time. Right now I had to focus on the AIDS worksheet. I could worry about Cartman later, and about whatever unforeseen tricks he had up his sleeve. Still, it was pretty fucking intimidating not knowing what was going to happen next…


	10. Cartman's Balls

Why did I ever come back to class? It was the worst idea I'd ever had, besides starting a Christian rock band. After I had wandered off campus, I went to the woods to kill a nutria-rat or something, only the thought of Kyle's luscious blood stamped out my appetite. So I came back to school, but now sitting through literature was becoming ruthlessly torturous. Human rights activists would petition to have Ms. Giacopazzi fired if they knew what us poor kids suffered having to sit through over sixty minutes of her droning on and on… I wanted to slit my wrists, but I didn't because it wouldn't really do anything to me, and also because I was particularly looking forward to after school when Kyle was coming over to my house.

Ever since Token's party I'd been dying for another taste of his scrumptious crimson blood. Just the thought of it drove me insane. I had convinced myself to wait until later that day before I would indulge my vampire vice, but it had been a tough struggle. Every time I saw him all I wanted to do was jump him and suck out all of his sweet, coppery essence.

However, I knew I wanted him for more than just his blood. I eventually gave up trying to deny my attraction to Kyle with bloody excuses. The fact was I wanted Kyle. I always had. I just had never thought of him as more than a plaything, something I could push around and control. That changed when he told me that he liked me. His confession gave me a position of power and influence over his existence. He had surrendered himself to me, and he became mine alone to own and adore. Which is what I'd always wanted, and it made me insanely giddy now that I had it. And now that Kyle was mine I could acceptably _take_ what was mine. And Kyle was mine, even if he refused to acknowledge it.

The last bell rang and startled me from my thoughts. Immediately, I jumped up out of my seat and rushed out of the classroom without a second glance. I was feeling particularly impatient, and I was eager to intercept Kyle before he started talking to one of our asshole classmates. It would be difficult trying to tear him away from a friendly conversation, but I was not about to wait any longer to get alone with him.

Just as I thought, when I busted out of the school's double doors I saw Kyle next to the flagpole chatting it up with Stan and Kenny. I scowled. Kyle was mah propertah and I didn't like seeing him preoccupied with other people when it was me who required his undivided attention. And as much as I appreciated my group of friends and even kind of enjoyed the time we spent insulting each other, I was not in the mood to socialize. So I just waltzed right up to the three of them and grabbed the one with red hair.

"Hey! Cartman! Let me go! I was talking to them!" Kyle shouted as he attempted to resist my herculean strength, but to no avail. I successfully dragged-slash-carried him to my car against his will. Then I let him go and proceeded to unlock the car door.

"Stop whining," I said. "You can talk to them anytime."

"Yeah… but… god! You could've at least let me say 'see ya' or _something_. We were in the middle of a conversation."

"I'm sure they don't take it personally. Now get in," I ordered and Kyle reluctantly complied, knowing it was too late to go back and apologize to our friends for my animalistic behavior. They probably didn't even care though. Kyle was just such nice guy that he couldn't bare the idea of offending anyone. What a wuss.

"You drove to school today?" Kyle asked as I started up the car and pulled out of the school parking lot.

"Yeah, I didn't want Keenny killing my vibe on the bus."

"Pssh! What does that even mean?" I glared at him in the seat next to me.

"Last time he butted his poor-ass in our business we didn't even make it to my house. This time I'm determined to get there without any trouble."

"No trouble, eh? Well then, you might want to actually go the speed limit so we don't get pulled over…" I unexpectedly slammed on the breaks and Kyle jolted forward. "Ow! Damn! What is your problem today?" he shouted as I pushed on the gas again.

"Sorry. I'm just a little on edge. I have been since Token's party." I saw Kyle stiffen.

"You mean because of my blood?" he muttered.

"And other stuff I guess."

"…What other stuff?"

"Doesn't matter."

"I want to know."

"It's nothing, Jew! I said it's nothing, so it's nothing!" Kyle's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything after that. We drove the rest of the way to my house in a tense silence. When we finally got there, I practically sprinted from my car and into my house, praying my mom was off somewhere. I was exceedingly relieved to find that she was. Kyle jogged after me.

"What the fuck is your hurry?" he asked wholly exasperated and agitated.

"Nothing Kahl! I'm not in any hurry. You must be delusional," I shrugged. But instead of buying into my excuse Kyle marched up to me and shoved a finger in my face accusingly.

"No. No! You're up to something. I've known you for all my life and I know when you're screwing around! Fuck! Can't you just be serious for once in your life? I'm being serious. I'm dating you against all of my better judgment. I even trust you a little bit, but not right now. Not when you're trying to screw with me even after I've given you chance! You can't just manipulate me like I don't have any thoughts or feelings, Cartman! When are you ever going to grow out of these fucking mind games and power struggles and _shit_?"

I stared at him blankly. Kyle's rant had really caught me off guard. I didn't know what to say. I just kept staring at him. He was glaring right back at me, and he looked so hot. Jesus fucking Christ. Why was he so hot?

Unconsciously, I grabbed a fistful of his hair and crashed his lips against mine. It was awesome. I didn't realize how much I'd been longing to kiss him until I felt the incomparable softness of his lips. He tried to jerk away from me, but I kept him firmly against me with the hand that was tangled in his curly red locks. With my other hand I ripped off his lame-ass trapper's hat and tossed it somewhere on my living room floor. Then I ensued to run my fingers along his jaw and down his throat to land directly against his pulse.

Kyle stopped fighting me when I began to stroke up and down along the prominent artery that ran through his neck. He moaned slightly when I ran my tongue along his bottom lip, and I used the opportunity to press deeper and intrude into the depths of his mouth. That's when I successfully forced through the rest of his reservations. I felt him slide his arms up my back and draw his nails back down over my coat. At the same time, he rammed his tongue into mine and pushed into my own mouth. The kiss was electric and I didn't want to break it for nothing, but eventually we had pulled away. As Kyle frantically gasped for air, I gently nuzzled my nose against his.

"Mmm," I mumbled, "kosher." Kyle frowned. I could feel it because my lips were still barely touching his.

"That wasn't fair," he said quietly.

"I don't play fair, Kahl."

"I know. I don't like that."

"But you like me so what should it matter?"

"I guess it doesn't."

"Ok then." I broke completely away from him and gestured up the stairs. "You go up to my room. I need to get something."

"What?" Kyle asked suspiciously. His guard wasn't down yet.

"It's a surprise," I said simply.

"I thought I told you, I'm not playing your stupid games."

"This isn't game, Kahl! I'm seriouslah!"

Kyle rolled his eyes, but instead of protesting he said, "Fine. Just don't get anything that will physically harm me." I tried not to smile. It was in fact the exact opposite situation.

I watched him go up the stairs and waited a few seconds before following him. Only instead of going to my room I went farther down the hall to my mom's room, which I never stepped foot in unless absolutely necessary. This was necessary. I had to rummage around, but it didn't take me long to find a small bottle of personal lubricant. It was shaped like a container of hand & body lotion, and it was advertized as having supreme gliding capacity. I grinned to myself. Kyle really had no idea what he was in for.

I went back down the hall and into my room, where Kyle was sitting indifferently on my bed.

"What's the surprise?" he asked.

"Think fast," I said and I tossed him the clear bottle. He caught it in mid-air and at first glance his face lost all of it's color.

"No. Nononono." He looked at me fearfully. "No way. We just… I'm not… No!" He leaped up and tried to get away, but I stood blocking the doorway. His only other option was the window, but Kyle was not was not even considering jumping out of it. I had him cornered. I shut the door behind me and walked over to where he was standing. With every step I took he seemed to shrink away.

"Kahl, calm down! It's ok, I won't hurt you."

"Whatever! Get the fuck away from me! I'm not ready for this! We're not ready for this! We've been dating for like a day!"

"It's been longer than that…"

"This doesn't feel right! I mean, Wendy and Stan have been dating since elementary school and they still haven't had sex!"

"Don't compare our relationship to theirs! That's just because Stan is a pussy who can't nail it to Wendy like man. He doesn't have the balls, Kahl. But I _do_ have the balls. I know what I want and I'm going to take it." I grabbed his arm in my vampire death grip and pulled him onto my bed, pinning him down easily, despite his flailing movements as he failed to break free.

"No! This is rape! This fucking rape! Get away from me!" I winced. I didn't want to rape Kyle. That was so sick. I needed to get him into this.

"I won't rape you, Kahl. I'll make sure it's consensual."

"I don't want to have sex with you!"

"Uh, yeah you do. You only think you don't want to. As soon as you come out of denial this whole situation will not seem so bad." But Kyle wasn't paying any attention to me. He was too busy kicking and jerking around as he tried to fight me off. "Kahl! Listen to me!" I shouted as I shook him roughly. He stopped struggling and shot me a glare filled with fury and fear. A knot formed in my chest, and I released my grasp on him. But I didn't move away from our position. He was still immobile.

"What?" he spat at me.

"I need you, Kahl. I need your blood. It's driving me insane, and the only way I can drink it without killing you is to have an orgasm first. It satisfies the body so I no longer desire your blood."

"That doesn't mean you need to rape me!" he yelled.

"It's more than that you fucking idiot! It's not just your blood. I want you!" I felt my face flush from the honesty I rarely expressed to anyone. "You're the only one, Kahl! It's always been you! I don't want to wait for us to be together for years and years and really learn to love and trust each other through the experience like all those fucking chick flicks I know you must drool over and think, 'That's all I've ever wanted.' It's bullshit! That's not me. But you know me. So can't we just skip all that crap? I already know what I want Kahl, and for me there's no use in beating around the bush. You don't want me to play games? I'm being serious right now! Look me in the face and tell me this isn't what you want from me!"

"I… I don't know. I just thought… that when we finally did… we'd be really in love." Kyle blushed and looked away from me with a hurt expression.

"This isn't a fairytale, Kahl. But I will tell you that I have no intention of _ever_ being with anyone but you. It's not a 'Happily Ever After', but it's as close as we're going to get in Hicks-ville, Colorado." Kyle gazed expressionlessly at me for a small eternity. I tried not to lose my ground, but I was more than a little drained from my cheesy, soulful speech.

"Ok," he said finally. "I accept you." I didn't think twice. I closed the space between us without any hesitation, letting my hands prod and explore his lean frame while my mouth latched onto his. Kyle moaned and wrapped his arms around my neck, but I shoved them back and made a move to wrestle off his jacket. He laughed softly at my failed efforts, and unzipped his jacket with ease. Then he hastily unbuttoned my jacket and I tossed both our heavy-weighted coats in the corner of my bedroom.

My next challenge was getting him out of his t-shirt. It would have to go over his head and there was no graceful way to do that so I just lifted it right off. I fervently ran my fingers down his smooth, pale chest. Kyle sucked in a sharp breath from the intimate contact, and his face broke out in a heated blush.

"Y-you're turn," he mumbled under his breath. I grinned and in turn took off my own t-shirt shirt. I wasn't big on shirts with buttons. They were impractical in situations like these. Meanwhile, Kyle's face had turned at least two shades darker than it had been. I grinned even wider.

"Like what you see?" I asked smugly.

"Yeah you're really hot," he said, and I felt extremely elated from the compliment. Kyle reached up and pulled me down to him so our bare chests were touching. I tried to ignore the blatant gayness of the situation by distracting myself with the skin on his neck. It would've been so easy to just break through it and get to the source of my desire. But I knew if I were to begin my feast prematurely then the outcome would very bad. Mostly for Kyle. Mostly. So instead, I satisfied myself with the strangled sounds of want that emitted from Kyle's throat when I nipped or sucked the same place on his neck until it was raw and sensitive.

While I was carried on with my torturous attention, I became aware of the uncomfortable angle at which I was bent over my bed. It was quickly becoming painful, so I pushed myself off of Kyle and slid him over so he was properly laid across my bed. Then I leaned over him and without any warning I shoved my hand down his pants.

"C-Cartman!" he gasped as I wrapped my hand tightly around his length, which I was pleased to find already rigid with sexual anticipation, and I brutally jerked my hand up and down. "Ah! Cartman, that hurts!"

"Stop whining, you bitch. You need to get used to dealing with pleasure and pain together fast, because I'm not holding back even a little bit." But even after I said this, my grip on him loosened into a steady beat. The result was immediate. Kyle's grimace rapidly transformed into an expression of near bliss. I wanted him to still be hard when I finally entered him, so I needed him already past the point of return. I gradually sped up my pace, and as I intended he quickly abandoned his modestly and was soon panting and moaning without constraint.

When he began to buck in time with my movements, I released him and pulled my hand back out from the waistline of his jeans. I figured he was close enough for me to take it to the next level. I slowly unbuttoned his pants and zipped them down, and then Kyle kicked them off with ease and relief. It was obvious how much he had been straining against the constricting material. Just as I was about to make my next move, he sat up and pressed his hand into my groin. I moaned shamelessly, and sucked in a shaky breath. Kyle smiled maliciously. Sneaky Jew-rat. I hadn't been anticipating that twist.

"What's the matter, Cartman? Cum in your pants?" I growled and shoved him onto his back.

"You'll be unhappy to find out how long I really can hold out for. I could ride your ass until dawn if I felt like it." Kyle's eyebrows rose, but his smile didn't falter. I had to restrain myself from smacking it right off his face. Maybe another time.

I reached down and promptly removed the brown corduroys I was wearing. Now we were both stripped down to our boxers, and the sexual tension had become almost unbearable. I picked up the bottle of lube off the ground, where Kyle had previously discarded it, and I climbed onto the bed so I was perched menacingly above my prey.

"Take off your boxers," I ordered, and Kyle blushed. "I said take them off!" He fumbled but he effectively got his hands on the rim of his underwear and gradually pushed it down his hips. Every centimeter of newly exposed skin made me crazy. Finally, the boxers were discarded altogether and there was nothing obstructing my view of his flesh. Kyle's face started blending in with his hair as I scrutinized every inch of his naked body.

"Stop looking at me!" he whined when my gaze had become too much for him to handle.

"Make me," I retorted on instinct, instantly regretting my choices of words. Kyle's hands flew to my boxers yanking them down painfully over my swollen erection. Then he rubbed his palm tenderly up the side. I almost exploded. Damn, I was closer than I'd thought. I really needed to move this thing along.

I yanked off my boxers the rest of the way and forcefully spread Kyle's thighs apart, stopping to caress the insides, which made him shiver and twitch. Then I grabbed the bottle of lube and squirted some out into my hand. I applied the slick solution to my length and my fingers, which I gently pushed into Kyle slowly, one at a time.

"Nnng, it feels really weird!" he yelped as I tried stretching him apart with my middle and ring finger. I kept on prepping the muscle for my width, but in addition I searched for the sweet spot that would be the key to sending Kyle over the edge. Of course I'd done some research before diving right into the act. I didn't want my personal inexperience to affect Kyle's overall gratification.

Then I found it. I could tell something about that point was different than the rest of his insides. It was spongy and pretty deep in there. I could only graze it with my fingers, but when I did, scrapping the surface lightly with my fingernails, Kyle's whole body convulsed and his mouth opened in a silent gasp of ecstasy.

"What… was that…?" he panted as I pulled my fingers out of him.

"Something to look forward to," I said coyly. Then I positioned myself to enter him. To my surprise I was met with less resistance that I was expecting. I easily pushed past the tight ring and slowly and steadily slid into his hole. With every inch, Kyle twisted his body from side to side. He was in apparent and immense pain.

"Ah! Oh aah! Slow down! Please, I can't adjust this fast!" he begged.

"I can't slow down any more that I have," I replied. "I'm already going at the most ungodly pace!"

"Then stop! Just stop! Please!"

"It's ok! I'm over halfway in! It's only a little more. You can take it, Kahl." He grimaced and looked away, and I took that as my cue to once again press forward. He squirmed and whimpered but he didn't tell me to stop again, and soon I was imbedded to the hilt. It felt amazing. "Christ," I said. "Kahl, you have no idea how great this feels."

"No I really don't," he whined.

"Let me pull in and out a few times. You'll adjust quickly." Kyle nodded his head and I started to drag most of myself out of him, before pushing back in. After I did this a couple times, Kyle began to relax and the penetration became a lot less difficult. Now I was once again searching for the same bundle of nerves that would make Kyle's end of the deal much more bearable. I tried thrusting forward at slightly varying angles until I found exactly the one I was looking for, and Kyle responded to my success with a throaty moan. His walls tightened around me and I thrust my hips again into his pleasure point.

"Cartman!" he shouted, burying his nails into my sheets and arching his back off the bed. I thrust forward again and again, progressively picking up pace to keep Kyle whimpering and moaning without pause. All I'd ever wanted was for him to subdue to me, and now I had him relishing in my dominance and pleading for more.

In all of this excitement, I had almost forgotten my ultimate motive. My body ached for release and I knew that if I was going to get to suck any of Kyle's blood it would have to be now. I thrust into him harder that I had before and at the same time I bit through the flesh of his neck. He shrieked in my ear from the overwhelming flood of sensations shooting up his spine, but I was too distracted by the rush of warmth that rushed into my mouth and sent my taste buds to the moon to even notice. I tried to keep a steady thrusting, but the magnificent blood pouring past my lips and down my chin made my beats irregular and awkward. To compensate for my clumsy movement, I wrapped my fist around Kyle's pulsing shaft and started jerking him off.

We remained in that same cycle of thrusting, grinding, and pumping. The ever-building friction between us was driving me insane, and all of my senses were on overload. I couldn't focus. I couldn't breathe either. Everything was heightened and hypersensitive and eventually I lost all control. When I reached my climax, it jolted like lightning through my entire body, moving from my groin down my legs and up through my chest and arms. I rode it out like a bucking bronco, desperately trying to push Kyle over the edge with me. I was triumphant, and I felt his cum spill out on to my stomach and hand.

"C-Cartman! Uhnn!" His entire body tensed up for the extent of his orgasm. Then he let out one last convulsive shudder before falling limp underneath me. I gingerly pulled out of his ass and collapsed on top of him. I was too tired to think so rested my head his chest, just focusing on the rise and fall of his body.

"Cartman, you have to close the bite on my neck," Kyle groaned softly. I reluctantly pushed myself up onto my elbows, sliced through my bottom lip with one of my fangs and gently kissed along the opening. It was then that I realized that Kyle's blood had mixed into my mouth and I didn't feel the usual desire to suck it out until it there was nothing left. By god, Butter's orgasm advice had worked.

I watched as the wound closed, and then lapped up any of the remaining blood on his shoulder and neck. But there was too much of it for me to get it all. And meanwhile Kyle's seed was crusting over on the lower part of his body.

"You should go wash yourself off and put on some clothes," I murmured into Kyle's neck.

"Yeah… That's probably a good idea. Only I don't want to move for week."

"Just do it. It will only take a minute, and then you can crawl back into bed with me and sleep for however long you want."

"Oh god, that sounds so fantastic. …Ok, ok. I'm getting up now." He rolled out from underneath me and scooted out of my bed. I didn't feel any shame from openly checking him out as he stood up and stretched. "Ugh, fuck. I'm sore all over..."

"The bottom drawer of my dresser has all of my boxers and cozy t-shirts," I said. He nodded and pulled out a clean pair of both before disappearing out of my bedroom door to find the bathroom. I groaned and forced myself out of bed after he was gone. I also needed to clean up, but I was too lazy to go somewhere else to do it. I used my old pair of boxers to wipe the cum off of my hand and stomach, then I put on fresh clothing and crawled back into my blood stained sheets. Another thing to clean up later.

Kyle returned shortly, looking somewhat revived. He wasted no time climbing into bed with me, and he laid his head onto my shoulder.

"That was fun," he said, and I laughed. "You are surprising good at gay sex."

"I don't know if that was a compliment or an insult."

"Compliment. Probably," he murmured, as he nested his head into a more comfortable spot.

"Wanna try it again sometime?" I asked.

"I'm so tired right now I can't even think about repeating what we just did."

"I know how you feel," I groaned. "Let's just sleep forever."

"We have school in the morning."

"...No we don't."

"…I don't have the energy to fight with you right now."

"Then just go to sleep."

"Fine."

I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms securely around him, ensuring he wouldn't ditch me in the morning for classes. Ugh, morning. I wished it would never come and we could stay like were forever. Or at least have some proof of this moment frozen into time, so it would remain as vivid and real as it was now. And then whenever things were bad or unsatisfactory we could look back to this moment and remember a point when everything was good and wonderful. And for the time being, it still was.


	11. Kyle's Easy

I woke up with the sun in my eyes and someone else's hair in my face. It was brown. Cartman's hair. Oh right. I had sex with Cartman, and then I fell asleep with him on his bed. That had been around 6:30 pm by my best estimate. The sun usually set around five in the afternoon, and according to the sun currently burning into my pupils, either we had gone back in time to before it had set or it was… morning. Shit.

I dared a quick glance over to Cartman's bedside alarm clock, and nearly threw up. 8:30 am! Oh god no! We were thirty-five minutes late to school. Fuck fuck fuck fuck! What the fuck was I going to tell my mom? My perfect attendance was going to be all for nothing! This was not happening!

I tried to jump out the bed, but Cartman's arms kept me securely fastened to him. I desperately flailed in attempt to escape but he didn't budge. Cartman was a total dead weight.

"Cartman! CARTMAN! For the love of god wake up! Wake the fuck up!" I screamed.

"Uhn," he groaned, but he didn't open his eyes. "Dammit Kahl. Why are you moving?"

"We're late to school! We have to leave now! Get up!"

"Fuck no. We're not going to school today. No way." He pulled me tighter against him, which gave me barely enough room to breathe and nothing else. I was beginning to panic.

"Cartman, you don't understand! My mom's gonna kill me if she finds out I skipped! Please I have to go! I have to!"

"No."

"Have mercy!"

"Jesus Kahl, are you hyperventilating?" In fact I was. Partially because I was freaking out, and partially because Cartman was crushing my lungs. "Oh god. Ok, I'll deal with this. Just stay here." He rolled out of bed and grabbed my jeans off the floor. Then he pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and started dialing.

"Wait, who're you calling?" I asked nervously.

"Shhh!" he hushed me. "Shut up Kahl! …Oh, hello! Is this South Park High School's attendance office?" For the second time since I'd woke up ten minutes ago, I almost threw up. Cartman's voice had transformed into a flawless impersonation of my mother.

"When did you…?" I began, but Cartman shot me a death glare and continued talking into the phone.

"Yes, yes. My son Kyle Broflovski needs to be excused from the first half of school. He'll be arriving around lunchtime. …For family reasons. And I trust that this won't hurt my bubbe's perfect attendance. If it does I might have to put in a complaint about the anti-Semitism that's corrupted the office staff. Mmhm. Thank you very much!" and he hung up. It dawned on me that my mouth was hanging open in shock and I quickly shut it.

"I didn't know you could do that," I said in disbelief.

"Hah, that's nothing. Check this out." He began to dial another number. "Hey Mom!" Good God, that was _my _voice. "Yeah I know I didn't come home last night, I'm so sorry I didn't call. You see I was over at Eric Cartman's house. We're working on a biology assignment. …Yes we do have biology together. It ended up being an all night thing. …No I'm not stuck doing all the work. Eric Cartman is a very responsible and handsome young man. …Yes Mom, I got plenty of sleep last night. But I really have to get back to class now. … I just stepped out to call you... Yeah I'll be home tonight. Yeah but I have to go. Bye!" He closed my phone and threw it onto the bed beside me.

"That was so incredibly frightening," I muttered quietly.

"Your mom's such a bitch," Cartman grumbled. "She just assumed I'd wouldn't even participate at all in our made-up biology project."

"But you wouldn't."

"Whatever! She shouldn't just assume stuff!"

"Hang on. I have to call Stan." Cartman growled possessively, but one fiery glare from me shut him up. Stan was speed dial #1 on my phone so I punched in the number and pressed send. Just when I thought the phone was about to go voicemail, Stan picked up.

"Kyle! Where are you?" he whispered.

"Long story that must be told in person."

"But you're not in class! What about your perfect attendance?"

"It's taken care of. But… listen, I really can't explain right now."

"Yeah I'm still in class. You should've called be during passing."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking I guess…"

"So, do you want to meet me after school? Or are you gonna ditch me for Cartman again?"

"No, I won't. We really need to talk anyway, so-" I was cut off my Cartman tackling me and grabbing the phone from my hand.

"Kahl will talk to you later, Stan. Bye!" And he snapped my cell phone shut.

"Cartman!" I shouted in exasperation. I was almost positive that Stan was freaking out over at the school. " Stan doesn't know we're dating!"

"Why the fuck not? Don't you tell him everything?" he asked confused.

"Well, I never found the right time to tell him. It just never came up I guess." As I said this, Cartman looked slightly offended. "I'll tell him today when I see him, so don't worry."

"I'm not worried. I just want Stan to know whose boss when it's concerning you."

"You're not the boss of me," I argued.

"Don't fight me on this, Kahl. I will win." I swallowed. Yeah, he would. He took my following silence as submission and pushed himself around so he was sitting next to me instead of in front of me.

"Hey Cartman, how long have you been able to impersonate my mom and me?" I asked. I was still a little shaken from before.

"Oh, a long time. I've just never needed to before. I just liked knowing that I could." He smiled at me, and at the moment I felt equally attracted to him and as I felt disturbed.

"It's really creepy," I muttered.

"Heh, I should use it more often. I could call your dad and have phone sex with him as your mom." I gagged.

"Oh god! Don't, please! That's so sick!" He started laughing so hard that he almost rolled off the bed, and he had to hold on to my arm to keep himself steady.

"I'm kidding! Haha! I swear!" he gasped. I wanted to hit him, but I resisted the urge. Instead I thought I'd use a nonviolent approach to retaliate.

"Nya nya! I'm Eric Cartman and I'm a sadistic retard whose mom is a dirty slut. I'm a faggy vampire just like Edward Cullen and if I could taste anything sides blood I'd weigh as much as a car!" My Cartman impersonation was not as good as Kenny's but it was pretty damn accurate, which really pissed Cartman off. He pushed me down onto my back and pinned me down by my shoulders.

"That's not funny, Kahl," he barked.

"Meeeeeeeeeeem! Eric's threatening meeeee!" I shouted. Cartman looked livid, and I giggled.

"Eric? Shouldn't you been at school?" we heard Liane's voice float from down the hall, and we both froze. Cartman jumped off me and pushed me off the side of the bed that wasn't visible from the doorway. I landed on my butt and almost cried out in pain. Last night was no picnic in the park, chiefly for me, and I was still enduring the after effects. But I forced back any sound from exiting my mouth, because just as I landed on the ground, the door opened and I could only assume that Liane had appeared in the doorway.

"Eric! You were supposed to be at school a while ago!" she scolded.

"I'm sorry Mom, but I'm not going to school today. If you would excuse me that would be nice, but even if you don't, I'm _not _going to school."

"Are you feeling sick, poopsie?"

"A little, yeah."

"Well ok then. I'll call the school."

"Thanks Meeem! You're the greatest." And then the door shut. Cartman leaned over his bed towards me. "You can come back up here now."

"No I can't, because I can't move," I whimpered. Cartman stared at me blankly and then he snorted.

"You can't even get up. Hah, I really some fucking number on you!"

"Shut the fuck up!" I whined. He laugh softly and eased himself of his bed and to wear I was sitting. I squeaked when he unexpectedly picked me up bridal style and gently placed me back on to the bed.

"You're so adorable, Kahl," he said as he lay down beside where I sat. I blushed.

"That was uncalled for," I murmured in embarrassment. He smirked at me.

"I just think that it's so cute how much you suffer because of me."

"Ugh, you're such a fucking sadist," I groaned.

"Whatever, you're a Jew. As I could plainly see last night." I blushed harder, and unfortunately Cartman noticed. "Haha! Aw, Kahl. Are you self-conscious about your circumcised dick?"

"Hardly the observation Cartman. It's not like you've never seen me without clothes before."

"Yeah, but that was the first time I'd had sex with you. So, it's like a whole new circumstance. And a whole new circumcision." He said this and then broke into wild fit of laughter.

"SHUT UP!" I yelled furiously, as I tried to kick him off the bed.

"Ok, ok! I'm sorry! I couldn't help it! I'm sorry!" he sniggered to himself while he pushed my legs away. When he regained control of his hilarity, he rolled onto his side and pulled me down into him, so I was lying down with his head pressed against me chest. The closeness made me feel all fluttery inside, but I didn't want to yield to him right after he had been viciously teasing me.

"You're such an asshole sometimes…" I grumbled, but as I inhaled the concentrated scent of his hair wafted into my nostrils and sighed in delight.

"Well, you shouldn't be such an easy target," he retorted plainly.

"I'm not easy!" I protested.

"That's what he said! Haha! After he took in the ass!" I kneed him in the gut, which was convenient because his stomach was pressed against my knee. He spluttered from the impact as he laughed at my thoughtless reply. "I deserved that," I coughed, "but do you see what I mean by easy target. I just can't resist."

"Go fuck yourself Cartman," I fumed.

"I'm sorry, Kahl. I don't try to piss you off on purpose." He nuzzled his head against my chest and my heart skipped like a record. "Don't be angry…"

"Dammit. I'm not angry. You're just annoying." He squeezed me tightly for a moment, and then he settled his arms loosely and comfortably around my waist. I placed both my hands around his head and closed them around tresses of his messy, brown hair. I felt vulnerable sacrificing my emotions to the moment, but even so, I let go and let myself feel blissfully content.

"You can call me 'Eric', Kahl. I know I told you that already, but it's really ok," he said softly.

"I'll call you 'Eric' of you call me 'Kyle'."

"…I don't understand."

"You call me 'Kahl, but that's not my name."

"…What?"

"You mispronounce my name."

"I do?"

"Yeah, you do! I always thought you did it on purpose to bother me."

"Wait, wait. How am I supposed to say your name?"

"Well, _you_ say it was an 'ah' sound when it's supposed to be with an 'i' sound."

"Huh. So… 'Kyle', not 'Kahl'."

"Exactly."

"…That's stupid. I'm not calling you that."

"Fine! I won't call you 'Eric'!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!" He shifted closer against me, allowing his hands to trail under my shirt (his shirt) and up my back. I shivered.

"You're so thin. Why are you so thin?" he asked.

"Exercise, I guess. And a high metabolism."

"You certainly didn't get that from your mom!"

"Fuck you."

"Whatever Kahl. You want me."

"Hey Cartman?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you really want to be with me forever?"

"For as long as you live."

"…Are you immortal?"

"No, but I will live longer than you."

"Oh. But you don't want to be anyone but me, for as long as we both live?"

"…Yeah. I do."

"I'm glad."

"Yeah. Me too." My heart ached, and I stroked one of my hands along his cheek. It was glorious that it was that simple. Cartman would be the only one for the rest of me existence. Which wouldn't mean we wouldn't fight, and would still have problems with each other, but we wouldn't be without each other. Which was wonderful from my perspective.

"Hey Kahl?"

"Yeah."

"I'll never tell you I love you."

"You just did."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar."

We lay there for a few more hours before I forced Cartman to drive me to school. He wasn't happy about it and I wasn't happy about leaving my cozy spot on his bed, but I knew as soon as I walked into the building that coming back to school was the right decision. I was a totally nerd fro this, but I really did find school comforting. It didn't mean I enjoyed it. It was just standard routine, and I wasn't one to break routine. Before, I would only hang out with Cartman because it was routine, but he wasn't actually my friend. Now he was my… lover. And as much as I disliked that term itself, it was more that appropriate.

School went by quickly, mostly because it was shortened day for me, and as soon as the last bell rang I rushed out of the building trying to hunt down Stan. If Cartman and I were really as serious as we had both decided Stan needed to know. I wouldn't tell him anything about the vampire part, but that aside, Stan was my best friend and I never liked having him out of the loop.

As expected, he was at the flagpole with Kenny, talking casually about videogames or something. When he saw me his brow furrowed and he stopped talking to Kenny.

"Kyle," Kenny shouted when he turned and saw me approaching.

"Hey Kenny. How are you?" I asked on instinct.

"Awesome. I met this girl at the party on Friday named Betsy and she's a babe, but she already has boyfriend or something. Whatever, 'plenty fish in the sea', right?"

"Yeah, totally," I responded.

"Anyway, I'm gonna go hang out with Craig. I'll see you guys later."

"Wait," I said. "Since when are you friends with Craig?"

"Ugh, we're always in detention together, cause I skip class and he flips off the teachers."

"But he's so… uh, nevermind. I'll see you later Kenny."

"Bye Kyle! Bye Stan!" he said before he walked off in a different direction.

"So," I said, turning to Stan, "you want to go to your house?"

"Yeah, I brought my car today."

"You mean your mom's car."

"Yeah." I grinned at him and we both walked over to the generic-looking sedan, a model that most people in our retarded town drove. When we got in the car Stan asked me if I wanted to talk now, but I told him it would be better if we had our discussion while were not in a moving vehicle. So instead we made small talk about Wendy, school sports and Health class. Soon we reached the Marsh's residence and went quickly up to Stan's room.

"Well, Kyle," Stan began calmly. "Please explain to me what the fuck is going on with you and Cartman?"

"We're dating," I said plainly, and Stan grimaced.

"I thought so," he groaned. "God, that so weird. For me. Ugh…"

"I really like him!" I exclaimed.

"I know Kyle. And I trust you, but I just... I just need some time to adjust. Shit."

"Yeah. It's fine…" I sat in silence while he sat with his head in his hands.

"So, why were you late to school today?"

"…I spent the place at his house last night." Stan's mouth dropped.

"Wait…. did you…?" I nodded hesitantly. "SHIT! But, why? How? How long have you been dating?"

"Since Token's party…"

"And you had _sex_ with him?" he screamed.

"Shhh! Stan! Be quiet! …Yes. I had sex with him."

"But why would you do that? You haven't even been dating for a week!"

"Cartman refused to wait. I didn't really have a choice…"

"He raped you?" Stan looked horrified and disgusted.

"No. At first I didn't want to, but then I just stopped fighting. It actually wasn't that big of a deal."

"I haven't had sex with Wendy and we've been together forever."

"That's your fault, Stan! I know you don't want to force her in to anything, but sheesh, she's been really holding out on you. Just be a man a take what you want!" Stan stared at me in shock.

"But what if she dumps me?"

"No offense, but good riddance. Wendy's kind of a bitch sometimes."

"Dude!"

"Sorry, but it's true. She's got your balls in a vice grip and it pains me to see you so… pathetic."

"…You're right… but I couldn't bear it if she dumped me. I love her so much."

"If you're happy with her then stay with her, but don't sacrifice your dignity."

"Yeah…" Stan muttered. "So, anyway, you and Cartman?" He shuddered. "I'm sorry, I'm still not used to this."

"It's fine dude."

"You'll always be my best friend. Even if you are dating Cartman... Even if you did have sex with Cartman…" He shuddered again.

"Thanks, Stan. That means a lot."

"I know I shouldn't ask this, but… who was the guy during sex?" I punched him hard in the shoulder. "…I thought so."

"Whatever Stan! Wendy's the guy in your relationship!"

"Low fucking blow!" He rubbed his shoulder. "Damn dude, that hurt!" I laughed and he laughed. Stan would always be my best friend, through thick and thin. Through the fire and flames. And as long as he had my back everything would be just fine.


	12. An Epilogue, of sorts

The day I had so long awaited had finally arrived. The trial had been difficult. It was a challenge that tested my strength and endurance. I hadn't been sure if I was gonna hold out for this long, but I had made it.

February 24. The day Wendy turned eighteen. The day we could finally have sex.

I turned eighteen back in October, and I'd waited for her up until now, respecting her wishes by staying over the bra and outside the pants. Now I was FINALLY going to get inside Wendy's pants and I was so excited I could barely contain it. Really. I'd had a raging erection for the better part of the day.

Her birthday fell on a Thursday, but we had Friday off of school for conferences or some obscure holiday. Whatever. I didn't actually care why we had Friday off. It was just such a spectacular convenience that I didn't want to question it at all. Plus, her parents were currently staying in Denver for their anniversary weekend, so we'd have the entire house to ourselves for the whole night and morning. Everything matched up so perfectly. It must've been the hand of fate.

At the current moment, I was sitting between Kevin Stoley and Clyde Donovan in my Social Studies class, both of whom annoyed the hell out of me, but today it felt ten times more aggravating, especially since it was my last class of the day. As if Social Studies by itself wasn't the most boring and irritating class ever. Honestly, how can anyone focus on the history of communist China when they have on poontang on the brain?

"No Clyde," Kevin Stoley said from my left side, "that happened in 'Episode VI: The Return of the Jedi' because the scene where Han Solo is frozen is at the end of "The Empire Strikes Back', so they rescue him in the next movie."

"But I thought that Jabba the Hut was in more that just one movie," said Clyde from my right.

"Oh my god! You guys are making this class unbearable for me!" I snapped at them. "Do you guys have any idea what I have to go through listening to you two fight about fucking Star Wars? Especially when all day all I've wanted to do is get out of this hell hole and hang out with Wendy."

"Why are you so eager to see _her_? All you guys ever do is kiss," said Clyde. One death glare from me shut him up.

"But in all seriousness, Stan," said Craig, who was eavesdropping from the table behind us. "Your relationship with Wendy is sooo boring. You guys never do anything exciting."

"Shut up Craig! You're boring!" I yelled at him.

"At least I'm not a virgin."

"Whoa really?" asked Kevin.

"Yeah dude. They call me Michael Jordan because of how much I score."

"That's retarded," I said.

"You're retarded," said Craig, and he gave me the finger. I scowled and forced myself to not punch him in the face. He had no right to insult my relationship with Wendy. We waited because we wanted to make our first time mean something, because our relationship was serious and special. He didn't have anything like that, so how could he understand? He probably lost it to some random chick at a party. Whatever, all these guys were assholes. I just had to get through Social Studies and then I'd be home free to Wendy's house.

"Hey Stan!" ...What now? I turned around in my seat to see Bebe waving at me from two tables away. "Can you meet me after class?"

"Uh.. k?" I said. I didn't want to meet Bebe after class but I couldn't blow off my girlfriend's best friend. That was not the right way to get some. I suffered through the rest of the class, trying to distract myself by doodling monsters on my note sheet, but it still felt as if the time it took for the bell to ring lasted an eternity. Finally, the bell rang, and we were excused from class. Bebe was waiting for me outside in the hallway.

"Hey Bebe, what's up?" I asked, as I walked up to her.

"Do you have protection?"

"...From what?"

"What the fuck do you think retard?" My face was blank as well as my mind, and she noticed this and sighed in frustration. Then she reached into her bag and pulled out a blue condom. I felt suddenly very nauseous. "Please tell me you at least thought this out in your head." I shook my head. "Shit, Stan! Wendy really loves you! Don't fuck this up by being a fucking idiot!"

"Sorry! It must've slipped my mind..."

"What, for eighteen years?" I was about to object to the amount of time that I had been with Wendy, but I decided not be a douche bag since knew she was only exaggerating to make a point. And who's to say Wendy and I weren't destined to be together at birth?

"Ok, yeah. I'm a fucking idiot. Please help me out, Bebe," I pleaded. Bebe smirked.

"Well... if you insist... Here take a few of these." She handed me a handful of condoms, and the nausea returned. "You never know if one of them is going to break or something. It's always good to be prepared. Now, when you finally do the nasty," I swallowed hard, "remember that foreplay is super important in order for women to have an orgasm. And anticipation never hurt. Just remember, Wendy's a total coward when it comes to exciting things like hopping fences and sex. You're going to take initiative and make the first move."

"...But-"

"No buts! Just listen to me, Stan! You just have to trust me on this one. I know what I'm talking about as far as sex and Wendy are concerned. Oh, and don't forget to wear deodorant. Men smell terrible during sex." I tried to swallow again, but I found my throat had gone dry. I didn't think I really knew what I was getting into. Even after so many years of waiting for this very day, I now realized I had no idea what the fuck I was doing.

"Bebe, I'm kind of scared."

"That's ok. That's normal. Just follow your instincts. Sex is the most primitive act instilled in the human nature. We were having sex in caves at the beginning of our race."

"That... doesn't make me feel better."

"It's simple, Stan. If it feels good you're probably doing it right. I have to go catch my bus now. Good luck tonight!" She winked at me and walked away. Bebe was a babe, which made our conversation so much more intimidating. She really knew what she was talking about, and I knew squat. Tonight was the night I would have sex with the woman of my dreams and I had no idea what to do. I needed someone else to talk to that didn't have a reputation like Bebe's. I needed to talk to someone I trusted. Someone who understood the way I thought. Someone like...

"Hey Stan!" I jumped a foot off the ground and spun around to find Kyle standing directly behind me. Cartman was standing beside him, but he was looking at the wall or something, purposefully trying to look nonchalant. "Whoa dude! Are you ok? You look really freaked out."

"Oh... uh... yeah," I muttered, trying to find something else to look at that wasn't Kyle's concerned expression. That's when my eyes focused on the shit-load of condoms still in my hand. I was holding them in plain sight. Mother fucker...

"Jesus Christ, Stan!" Cartman shouted in surprise. He had also noticed the unusual amount of condoms I was carrying. "I thought Kyle was the sex addict, not you." Kyle mouth dropped and he punched Cartman in the chest. "Fuck! Not like that!" Cartman grunted. "I meant that one time from elementary school when they diagnosed you as one!"

"Well, you shouldn't just say things of context like that! Asshole!" said Kyle, as he glared in the opposite direction. Cartman reached up and gently ruffled Kyle's hair as a gesture of apology, and Kyle took the hand off his head and held it in his own hand as a sign of forgiveness. "Anyway..." Kyle said with a light blush tinted on his cheeks. "Why do you have all those condoms, Stan?"

"Bebe gave them to me," I said bluntly. "...Today is Wendy's birthday."

"Holy shit! It's a fucking landmark in Stan's pathetic life! He's finally going to lose his virginity after eighteen miserable years or torturous waiting!" Cartman said with sarcastic enthusiasm.

"Fuck you Cartman! I waited cause I wanted to!" I yelled at him.

"No, you waited 'cause you're a fucking pussy and can't stick to Wendy like I know you want to. I, on the other hand, don't wait to get what I want. So you may call me impatient but I'm a happy son of a bitch because of it."

"Quiet Eric," Kyle said sternly. I mentally shuddered when I heard Kyle use Cartman's first name, but it's not like he hadn't done it in front of me before. He only ever used it when he was serious about a situation, and seeing how it never ceased to weird me out, I could only imagine what Cartman felt.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Cartman!" I yelled. "In our relationship we make decisions as a team! I respect Wendy and want her to have a say in how things are going to work out between us!"

"Wendy is holding out on you!" he shouted back. "You give her so much respect and authoritah in your relationship, she fucking abuses it! I wouldn't be surprised if she tries to swindle her way out of tonight just to see if you would let her get away with it!"

"Wendy wouldn't do that!"

"She would! Why not? After all these years of waiting and longing, why wouldn't she hold out just for one more day? Or week? Or YEAR? Take my advice, Stan. If you want to progress your relationship with Wendy you have to trust that she likes you enough that you can push her. It's probably what she wants. She probably wants you to be man about it and fucking take charge! But you're just faggy, sappy puppy who sits when it's told and is lead around on a fucking leash!"

"Eric, I said SHUT UP," Kyle growled, and Cartman retreated from his onslaught of my person. I glared at Cartman, but I couldn't help thinking that a lot of the things he had just said might've actually made sense. "Don't listen to him, Stan! You have great relationship with Wendy and I think-"

"It's ok, Kyle. He's right. I'll never have sex with Wendy." I slumped against the wall of lockers that bordered the hallway in depression. I was suddenly not looking forward to tonight.

"That's not true!" Kyle grabbed my hands and tried to pull me back onto my feet, but he failed as I bested him in weight and strength. "You and Wendy are meant to be together forever! I know it! There's no way you two would've stuck together so long for nothing! Everything has lead up to this point! Tonight you guys will take the next step in your relationship, and you have to believe me when I say it's going to be the greatest night of your life!" I looked at Kyle thoughtfully as he proceeded to put all of his strength into pulling me up from my slumping position. It was funny how much effort he exhausted. Even thought it was obviously a lost cause, he still couldn't help but try. And to me that was incredibly comforting. That I had someone who would stick with me and help me even when their attempts were best put as 'beating a dead horse.' I was really lucky that I had a best friend who cared about me so much.

I stood up abruptly, making Kyle stumble off balance and allowing me to pull him into a tight hug. He started in surprise, but as soon as he found his footing he hugged me back without restraint.

"You're my best friend, Kyle. I don't know what I'd do with out you," I said, hoping to communicate all the love I felt for him in that moment through my voice and embrace.

"I know, man. I love you too," said Kyle, holding me even tighter.

"Whoa! What the fuck!" Oh yeah. I had totally forgotten about Cartman. Now he was thoroughly enraged from our exchange of passionate bromance and probably wanted my head on a stick. Kyle was quickly ripped from my arms and I was slammed against the lockers I had been leaning on moments before. "That was too far, Marsh!"

"Calm down you fucking hot head! I'm the straight one, remember?"

"That doesn't mean you go around feeling up other people's boyfriends!"

"Kyle, could you please get him off me?" Kyle placed hand on Cartman's shoulder, and he reluctantly backed away from me.

"I'm not through with you Marsh," he snarled, and I tried not to smile, so not to provoke him any further.

"Eric, please," Kyle said softly, as he calmly tried to move him away from me. As he was pushing Cartman down the hallway he turned back to me, and he put his hand up like phone against his ear and mouthed, "call me". I gave him a thumbs up and walked myself out of the building and into the parking lot to search for Wendy's car.

It was a purple volkswagen bug that all of the guys, except Kyle, slugged me for whenever I walked by it. Whatever. They were all jerks. I saw Wendy bent over into the trunk, and suddenly felt all the blood rush into my groin. She just had to wear a skirt today, dammit!

"Hey Stan!" she shouted and waved at me when she saw me approaching the car.

"Hey babe," I murmured as I kissed her gently. "Happy birthday... again."

"Thank you... again." She smiled at me before she walked around to the driver's side of the car and got in. "Hop in!" I quickly got into the passenger's seat and before I knew it we were driving. To Wendy's house. Where later we would fuck. Fuck.

The drive was torturous. She was talking about something they had discussed in student council, but I could not focus on anything she was saying. All I could think about was her scent and the feel of her body, and the uncomfortable straining in my pants. Bebe was right. Anticipation was the strongest aphrodisiac I'd ever experienced.

"So, Stan. I was thinking tonight we could just take it easy and hang out. Watch movies and stuff." I was suddenly doubtful about my expectations for tonight. Could it be she was absolutely clueless about what day it was? Didn't she know what we had planned to do on this day? No, it couldn't be. Bebe remembered, so Wendy must've too.

"That sounds fun... What about dinner?"

"We can order pizza!"

"...Ok." That was... sexy? I had always pictured this being a candlelit night of Italian food and Marvin Gaye music. But Wendy and I obviously had different ideas about how to set a mood. Might as well just roll with whatever she was thinking.

We pulled up in front of her house, and Wendy skillfully parked the car.

"Hey," she said as she tossed me the keys, "unlock the door for me, will ya?" Wendy always locked the door to her house when she went out, ever since the Mr. Garrison incident. I tried not to look behind me as she popped the trunk and bent over to pull out a large white poster board, but I really could help myself. She was so hot! I shook my head and ran up to the front door of her house to avoid further temptation. When I walked into her house, I made sure to kick off my shoes before collapsing on her couch. I needed a cold shower. Or a mind-numbing hand job. Something to release the tension crawling through my body.

"Stan... What're you doing?" Wendy asked when she walked into the living room.

"Uh, lying on your couch."

"Yeah I can see that." She dropped her stuff against the wall and walked over to me. "What's wrong, hon? Tough day?"

"Yeah," I said, accepting the excuse she'd offered.

"Aw," she cooed, as she pulled of my hat and petted my head. "You want a cup of cocoa? Or a soda?"

"Cocoa sounds yum..." My brian stopped functioning as she ran her hand through my hair. It was amazing how much I still loved her and was attracted to her, even after the nine years we'd been together.

"K, I'll put some on the stove," she said and wandered into the kitchen. While she was absent, I thought about the soothing sound of her voice and the smooth skin of her lips and every dip and curve of her beautiful body...

I jerked up with a start, to find Wendy sitting on the couch next me, watching some girly-looking film. There was a pizza box on the coffee table, and I stared at it blankly.

"Wait.. what?" I said, confused. "When did the pizza get here?"

"Twenty minutes ago. You fell asleep." My eyes widened.

"How long was asleep?"

"About two hours. But it's fine. I don't mind. Besides, it looked like you needed a nap." I pushed myself up into a sitting position.

"Thanks for letting me rest." I muttered. "What are you watching?"

"Some dumb movie about a guy who likes a girl but won't tell her yet cause then the movie would be over."

"So... you don't actually want to watch this movie?" She shrugged.

"I don't care."

"So... you won't mind if we," I scooted closer to her on the couch and pulled her into me, "totally disregard it and do something else." Wendy looked at me and blushed. It was barely visible. If I'd seen her on the street I would've thought it was make-up, except I had actually seen the pink spread into her cheeks, and it made my stomach drop into my kidneys. It was so adorable. I kissed her forehead lovingly.

"We can do... something else. I guess," she mumbled, flustered and flattered by my delicate attention. I reached my arm underneath her legs and shifted her so she was lying comfortably along the couch. She squeaked and pulled her skirt down as I moved her. Then when she was situated, I leaned over her, letting my hand travel up and down her leg. She shaved. She fucking shaved. She just had to know what was coming. I stretched out over her and gently ground my hips into her, so my erection pressed into her mid frame. I sucked in a sharp breath, allowing the wave of tension to wash up through my abdomen. Wendy reached her arms around my neck and pulled me down to her awaiting lips. I wrapped my arms around her chest and pulled her tighter against me. Our mouths fought the distance between each other, until I felt like I was drowning in her taste. My hands moved down her body, groping everything in it's contact. Meanwhile, Wendy wrapped her legs around my hips for leverage, which pressed my erection deeper into her frame, and made me moan abrasively. I pushed my body up off of her and slid my hands down into her inner thighs, stroking along the seam of her underwear.

"St-Stan! I don't think I'm ready for this yet!" I froze.

"Why not?"

"It's just happening so fast! I don't have a second to process anything!"

"...That's the point."

"I don't know. Maybe we should try a different time." The moment of truth. Wendy had offered me a proposition, which I was is a position to accept or shoot down. If I accepted it, I would being showing Wendy that I respected and cared about her feelings. If I shot it down, I would be a very happy man and Wendy would either be equally happy or seriously pissed off. Was it worth the risk?

Definitely.

Without hesitation, I pulled her underwear to the side and shoved a finger inside her. It was warm and wet. It felt really weird around my finger, but I figured it would feel really good around my...

"Stan!" Wendy shouted in surprise. "You just...!"

"Don't even try to back out on me now. Not over the one event that is the highlight of my high school years. This night is about us, which is 50% me so I want a say in this too. And I'm not waiting another second for this, Wendy. I've waited for this night since I was 13. And after all these years of being faithful and respectful of your wishes, now I think that I deserve a little fucking gratification. " I'm sure Cartman would've been proud of my impromptu speech.

"Oh... ok," she muttered quietly. For a moment I was thrown off my game.

"Wait... really?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"You're not even gonna fight me? At all?"

"No. If it's what you want, let's do it."

"Ok... Cool. Um, so..."

"Stan, your finger is in my vagina..."

"Yeah... it is... Maybe we should take this to your room." Wendy smiled at me.

"Ok." I pulled my finger out of her, and she sat up and kissed me. "I love you, Stan."

"I love you too, Wendy." She hopped to her feet and ran upstairs. Meanwhile, I sat in shock on the couch frantically trying to wrap my mind around her approval. After a few seconds, I gave up, telling myself there would be plenty of time for it to sink in later. So instead of contemplating the situation, I jumped up and punched the air in victory. I'd make sure to thank Cartman next time I saw him because I would never have found it in me to stand up for myself like I did if it weren't for his asshole advice. It worked, right? But for now... I had business to attend to. Up the stairs I went, leaving behind my cowardly boyhood, ready to enter the vast adventure that was a sexually active relationship.

...Right after a quick stop to the bathroom, so I could vomit my guts out. Some things never change.


End file.
